


Healing

by Erica_likes_to_write



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Ian, Post 4.12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-04 00:59:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1761255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erica_likes_to_write/pseuds/Erica_likes_to_write
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Multi Chapter. Mickey and the Gallaghers fight to help a struggling Ian through his recovery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Out of Bed

Mickey poured a mug of coffee and placed it on the table in front of Ian. This was only the second morning that Ian had gotten out of bed and, after three weeks of near silence, the conversation between the two felt forced and awkward. Mickey had stayed home the entire day before, afraid that if he took his eyes off Ian for even a moment, he might disappear back into that bed, back into silence.

 

The day before had been surreal but good. Mickey tried to make it as normal and familiar as possible. They spent most of the day on the couch - mostly watching tv and playing video games. Ian was quiet but in a good way. He seemed peaceful, even smiling a few times. Mickey was a little concerned, given that Ian was normally pretty chatty. But he figured anyone would be quiet after not speaking for three weeks. He imagined that Ian needed time to ease back into his old self. And, truth be told, if Ian never returned to his full on chatty self, that was just fine with Mickey. He was so happy to have Ian back, not manic or depressed Ian, just Ian, that he didn't mind a slightly more introspective version.

And so they had spent the day together in Mickey's house. Not many words were spoken and the ones that were uttered were hesitant and awkward from both boys, but things felt peaceful. And there were touches. Very slight but Mickey was hyper aware of each of them: their fingers brushing when Mickey passed him his coffee or a cigarette, their hips and legs against each other as they sat on the couch. It was more contact than they had shared in weeks, despite the fact that they had been sharing a bed each night.

Mandy had come home from her shift at the diner around six and that was the best part of the day. Mickey had texted her earlier to let her know Ian was up and she brought home dinner for all of them from the diner. The second she entered the house, she shrieked, looking at Ian with delight and he smiled back shyly, looking about twelve years old in that moment.

"Get over here!" She said, her arms out, inviting a hug and Ian was across the room in an instant practically falling into her arms. "You scared the shit out of me! What were you thinking leaving me alone with just this douchebag for company? Don't ever do that again!" 

And then they were laughing. "Okay, okay, I promise."

Mickey watched them and marveled at the easy way they interacted with each other. Mickey knew it would be the same when he eventually told the Gallaghers that Ian was up and they came to see him. There would be hugs and kisses and all kinds of touching and affectionate words. Yet Mickey and Ian had been together all day and there had been none of that. Mickey didn't know how to be that way. Why was it so difficult for him to touch another person? The truth was that, whether through physical contact or words, Mickey found it almost impossible to show affection. The only way he was comfortable showing Ian that he cared was by protecting him and taking care of him. And, of course, through sex. And yet lately, he wanted more. And he worried whether what he was able to give would be enough for Ian. After all, there were other guys out there who would hug him and hold his hand and take him on dates. There were plenty of guys out there who could tell Ian that they loved him.

Ian remained quiet as the three of them ate dinner together on the couch. Mandy was so chatty, entertaining them with stories of the nasty guys that hit on her at work. It was a relief to Mickey to have Mandy there talking. Her stories were funny and outrageous (he suspected she was exaggerating certain elements for comic or shock value) and Mickey loved the sound of Ian's laughter beside him.

At one point, Mandy went to the kitchen to refill her drink and Mickey turned to Ian. He was nervous but it had been on the tip of his tongue all day and he needed to say it. His voice was so quiet, Ian wouldn't have heard it if their faces hadn't been inches apart. "Missed ya."  
And Ian had smiled, his face full of adoration, reminding Mickey of how Ian used to look at him before the depression. 

And then Mandy was back and the moment was over as they both turned to her when she spoke to Mickey. "Hey Assface, pass the remote."

 

Later that night, the three of them watched a movie. Mandy and Ian fell asleep about halfway through but Mickey was wide awake. He grabbed a beer (his fourth of the night) and paced between the kitchen and living room. That day had been like a dream but the next day they would have to return to reality. There were so many uncertainties. Should he go to work? He wasn't sure Ian was ready to be by himself but he had to at least put in a few hours at the rub and tug. He didn't trust Kev to run things. Besides, he needed to pick up his cut from the past couple weeks.

And then there were the more long-term concerns. Would Ian stay or would he want to move back in with his own family? If Ian went back with the Gallaghers, would Ian want him there too? And what about Ian's job? Would he keep working at the club? Lip and Fiona wanted him to go back to high school. Mickey thought that was probably the best option but he wasn't going to pressure Ian and risk pushing him away. No, he decided, he'd let Lip and Fiona deal with that shit.

And then there was the medication. After they dragged him to the clinic, Ian had flat out refused to go to therapy.(Gallaghers don't do therapy, Fiona had explained.) But Ian had met with a psychiatrist and started taking medication. Mickey knew that Ian wasn't supposed to drink or do drugs while taking the medication. But now that Ian was up and moving around, how could Mickey possibly enforce that? How could any of them?

Mickey chugged the remainder of the beer and stood in front of the couch. "Hey, it's late." Neither of them stirred. "Yo, Tough Guy. Get up." Mickey nudged Ian with his foot. 

Ian opened his eyes and sat up. "What time is it?"

"It's late and I'm not carrying your ass to bed. Let's go." He reached for Ian's arm and pulled him off the couch.

"What about her?" Ian gestured toward Mandy.

"She's on her own. Come on." They entered the bedroom and both removed their jeans. Neither of them knew where to look so they just avoided eye contact, falling into bed in their boxers and tee shirts. They lay on opposite sides of the bed. The room was silent except for the occasional L train rolling past across the street. Finally, Mickey broke the silence. "Goodnight, man."

"Goodnight, Mick."

 

The next morning, Mickey woke alone in his bed. Mickey felt worry knotting in his gut but he pushed it away. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. Then, he got out of bed and went looking for Ian. He didn't have to look far. Ian was sitting at the kitchen table by himself. An empty coffee mug was in his hand as he seemed to stare ahead at nothing.  
"Hey."

"Hey."

"You're up early."

"Yeah."

Mickey took his mug and refilled it. He gave it to Ian. 

"Thanks."

"Sure." After pouring himself a mug, he sat down across from him. "I gotta go into work today. Gotta take care of some shit and pick up my cut from Kev. You wanna come with?"

Ian shook his head. "Nah, man. Not ready to see everyone yet. You go, I'll be fine here."

Mickey looked at him skeptically. "You sure? Mandy has to work a double today so you'll be alone."

"It's fine."

Mickey didn't really feel comfortable leaving him alone for hours. "Your fucking sister, man. She really freaked me out talking about your mom and suicide and shit." He smiled, trying to lighten the mood. Ian didn't smile back and Mickey lit a cigarette. "Maybe I'll go in tomorrow instead."

"Jesus, Mickey, just fucking go to work." And with that, Ian went back into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Mickey finished his smoke in silence. Mandy had already left for the diner and Mickey didn't hear any sounds coming from his bedroom. Somewhat reluctantly, he picked up his phone and called Lip, who answered after two rings.

"Mickey?"

"He's up."

"No shit. Since when?

"Yesterday morning."

"Is he . . ."

"Seems okay. Quiet. Listen, I gotta go to work but I don't really want to leave him alone . . ."

"Mandy?"

"Working. Can you come over?"

"I can't man, I got class."

Mickey had never liked Lip and he knew the feeling was mutual. It was strange having him in his phone contacts. It was hard for Mickey to ask him for things. But Mickey knew Lip cared about Ian and fuck if Mickey didn't need all the help he could get dealing with this shit. And Lip was an asshole but the guy was smart. Still, he dreaded any interaction with him, just like he did with all the Gallaghers. He knew they all thought Ian was too good for him. And that bothered him even though he secretly agreed with them. "What about Fiona?"

"I'm pretty sure she's working today."

Mickey sighed. "Fuck."

"Hey, I got an idea. Carl got suspended from school yesterday. I'll ask him to stop by around lunchtime. Check in on him, yeah?"

"Isn't he like eleven?"

"You got a better idea?"

"Okay, alright. You sure you don't want to have the other one stop by? The three year old?"

"Fuck you, Mickey."

"Yeah, okay. Have him text me after he sees him." After hanging up with Lip, Mickey showered and brushed his teeth before returning to the bedroom. He considered knocking but then remembered that it was his fucking room and opened the door.  
Ian was dressed in jeans and was zipping up a hoodie when Mickey entered the room. "Going somewhere?"

"Thought I might go for a walk to clear my head. Sorry I was a jerk before."

Mickey pulled on his jeans. "It's alright."

"No, it's not. I just . . . don't want to be treated like a baby. I'm better now. I can take care of myself. I know my family is gonna treat me like that but I didn't think you would."

"Okay."

"Like last night. What did you think that if you touch me I'm gonna fucking break?"

Mickey put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Got it."

"Come on, man. You're a fucking thug. I expect more from you." Ian smirked at him and Mickey smiled, relieved that the tension was gone. 

Mickey put a hand on each of Ian's narrow hips and pulled him close until those hips met Mickey's. Their faces were inches apart. There were so many things that Mickey thought about saying in that moment but instead he gently placed a hand behind Ian's neck and pulled him into a deep kiss. It felt amazing to be touching him after so long. After a few minutes, Mickey felt himself and Ian getting excited and he forced himself to pull away.

He squeezed Ian's shoulder. "I gotta go.  
I promise to thug it up for you later."

"Rob a convenience store on your way home?"

Mickey gave him one last smile before leaving the room. "Whatever makes you happy, man."

 

It was a busy day at The Alibi - upstairs and downstairs. Mickey actually enjoyed being back at work, out of the house, with people he didn't have to tip toe around. He felt guilty for having these thoughts but he couldn't help it. He cared about Ian more than anything else but, lately, he was exhausting to be around.

Now that Ian was out of bed, Mickey realized that he was going to need to make some decisions regarding Svetlana. Should he divorce her? Mickey had no idea how to go about getting divorced and wondered if it was expensive. Things had been relatively peaceful between him and his wife and he felt that he'd rather not rock the boat but he would divorce her in a second if Ian wanted it. Mickey sighed. The power dynamic in his relationship with Ian had flipped completely since Ian's return. Mickey felt almost completely powerless in the relationship, so afraid of losing Ian that there was nothing he wouldn't do to keep Ian from leaving again. Mickey cared about Ian and wanted to make him happy but he also knew that, if they were going to last as a couple, the power dynamic would have to start evening out between them. Mickey hoped that once Ian returned to a healthy and rational mental state (maybe he was already there?), that he would be just as desperate to hold onto Mickey and the issue would resolve itself. If it didn't, Mickey was treading dangerously close to being Ian's bitch and he wouldn't allow that. While he was pretty sure he was in love with Ian (how the fuck had that happened?), he hadn't gone completely soft.

 

At around one o'clock, his phone rang. He had been sitting at the bar, chatting with Kev and Vee and enjoying a beer. The caller ID was his own house. "Ian?"

"He's not here."

"Carl?"

"Yeah. Did you hear me?"

"I'm not deaf. What do you mean he's not there?"

"I just got here. I let myself in after knocking about 10 minutes. He's not here. I checked everywhere. The house is empty."

"He probably went for a run."

"His sneakers are by the front door."

"I'll call his cell."

"I'm holding it."

Mickey tried to push down the panic spreading through his body but he felt it everywhere and so acutely. He looked up and made eye contact with Kev who looked concerned. Mickey pulled himself together. He wouldn't fall apart. It was too soon to panic. "Call your brother and sisters. I don't care what the fuck they're doing - school, work, doesn't matter. Tell them to come home. I'll meet you guys at your place."

"What are we gonna do?"

"We're gonna find him."


	2. Friends

Mickey was determined to stay calm. Remaining cool under pressure was a quality he prided himself on. Ian had already done such a number on him, gotten him all turned around, but Mickey wouldn't let Ian change this. There had to be limits to how much Ian could fuck with him. He couldn't allow him to change his fucking core. And so Mickey calmly returned upstairs where he put away the books for the day and headed back downstairs. He passed a worried looking Kevin at the bar. "I'm heading out early."

"Everything okay"

"Hopefully. Gallagher's missing."

"Ian?"

Mickey signed. He didn't know why he was still playing these games. Calling him Gallagher to try and hide the intimacy. As if Kev and most of the south side didn't already know that he and Ian were together. "Yeah."

"Hope you find him. Ian's one of the good ones."

Mickey nodded, unable to speak. Kev's words had cut right to his heart.

 

When Mickey arrived at the Gallagher house, he could tell immediately that something was off. Fiona was standing at the kitchen counter looking tense, her knuckles white where she gripped her coffee mug as if ready for a fight. Carl sat at the table avoiding eye contact with Mickey and looking guilty.

Mickey pulled his jacket and scarf off. "What's going on? You guys start making phone calls yet? Where's Lip?"

Fiona sighed. "He's upstairs."

Mickey's eyebrows raised in annoyance as he tried to stay calm. "Okay. What are we doing here? You're sipping a fucking coffee?" He looked at his watch. "He's been gone at least a couple hours. Where's your sense of fucking urgency?"

"Ian."

Mickey still didn't get it.

Fiona put down her mug and looked at him with an expression of challenge mixed with what Mickey could only interpret as a hint of fear. "Ian is upstairs."

"So you found him. Jesus Christ, why didn't you call me? I've been worried out of my fucking mind." Mickey hadn't realized just how worried he had been until he felt relief wash over him. He sat down, feeling completely drained. "Where was he? Is he okay?"

Carl exchanged a look with Fiona and then spoke softly. "He was never missing. I mean, I thought he was when I called you. But turns out Fiona brought him over this morning after you left for work. I spent the morning at Bonnie's so I didn't know until I got home."

Mickey looked at Fiona. "Why would you do that?"

"Because he belongs at home with his family."

"So you waited until I left for work and then smuggled him out. What the fuck?"

"He didn't fight me." Fiona was staring him down now. She was ready for a fight and Mickey could tell she wasn't going to back down. "Look, I wanted him home this whole time but it seemed almost impossible to move him before when he was practically catatonic. Once Lip told me he was up and on his feet again, I knew it was time for him to come home."

"And you're saying he wants to be here?"

Fiona averted his gaze and shrugged. "He didn't fight me."

"You want him here, it's fine. I'll go back to my place, get my stuff."

"No. You can't stay here. Look, he's seventeen years old. This thing between you two . . . it's too intense. He's too young. What he needs right now is to be a teenager. Go back to school, get a normal after school job."

"I don't understand the problem here. I'm a teenager too. What's wrong with him having a boyfriend?"

Fiona shook her head. "Mickey, I'm trying to be nice here but you keep pushing. The problem isn't with Ian having a boyfriend. The problem is that boyfriend being you."

Mickey nodded. At least now he knew where he stood with Fiona. "This is bullshit. He wants to be with me." Mickey stood up and headed upstairs. He found Ian alone on his bed, staring out the window. Mickey shut the door behind him and sat down beside him on the bed. "So you left? Took all your shit?"

Ian nodded.

"This really where you want to be?"

Ian shrugged. "I don't know. I guess."

Mickey's eyebrows raised. "You guess?"

"Fiona thinks . . ."

"I know what Fiona thinks. I want to know what you think." Ian was looking at his hands and Mickey could swear they were shaking the tiniest bit. He face and voice softened as he took one of those hands in his own. "Ian, if you want to be here, that's fine. But she's not gonna let me stay here too. I just want to make sure that's really what you want."

Ian was still looking down. "Yeah, I think so."

Despite what Mickey had just said, it wasn't fine. He cupped Ian's face with his other hand, forcing the younger boy to look at him. "I know things have been a little weird between us since you got outta bed but it's only been a day. You gotta give us a chance to get our rhythm back." He grinned at Ian. Ian broke eye contact, looking back down at his hands. Mickey was getting frustrated. "Ian, look at me. I need to know where your head is at."

Ian looked up at him. He looked nervous. "I don't know, Mick. I mean, I'm out of bed and everything but I still don't feel right. I still feel pretty shitty. And this thing between you and me . . ."

"This thing between you and me? Seriously?"

"It's just always been so intense with us. Fiona and Lip . . ."

"I'm so fucking sick of hearing about Fiona and Lip. They know fuck all about what we have, Ian."

A moment of silence passed between them and Mickey looked into Ian's eyes, searching for some understanding of where he was coming from. Finally, Ian broke the silence. And for the first time in the conversation, he sounded sure of his words. "Now that I'm not manic anymore, it's finally sinking in that I totally fucked up my life. I'm not the guy you fell for. I'm not that person anymore. I've done terrible things and turned everything to shit. I'm a loser now and, until I get my life back on track and start fixing things, I can't be with you. I don't want to be with you."

Mickey felt increasingly desperate. "Why the hell not? I can help you!"

"Because you're a distraction! You've always been a distraction!"

Mickey is angry but he takes a moment to calm down. He doesn't like how worked up he's gotten Ian. He speaks gently. "Look, I don't know what's going on here. Maybe you're just falling for the bullshit your brother and sister have been feeding you. Or maybe . . ." His voice breaks. "Or maybe you blame me for you getting sick. Either way, you're pushing me away and I know that's not what you really want. Because for the past two years, you've been chasing after me like some god damn puppy dog and now you have me, exactly like you always wanted, and you're pushing me away. And that just doesn't make any fucking sense."

Mickey got up and headed for the door. Ian looked up at him and spoke just as he reached for the door knob. "I can't be with you when I feel this bad about myself."

Mickey froze at the door. "So what does that mean? We're just friends until you start feeling better? Or are you gonna shut me out completely?"

"We can be friends."

Mickey laughed bitterly. "Friends. Jesus Christ, Ian. After everything we went through together, you want to be fucking friends?" Ian nodded and Mickey shook his head, feeling his eyes grow damp. "I can't do it. There's no way I can be just your friend right now. Sorry but there's no fucking way."

"Mickey . . ."

"I gotta go. Later, man." Mickey practically ran down the stairs and through the kitchen, grabbing his jacket on the way. It was freezing out but he was never so happy to be out of that house. He wiped the tears from his face. Fuck Ian Gallagher, he thought. The guy totally fucked him over, pushing him to come out to everyone, only to leave him shortly after. Yeah, fuck him. Mickey was trying desperately to feel anger towards Ian because he was comfortable with anger but it wasn't working. He wasn't mad at Ian, he was just worried. And devastated. As he trudged through the freezing cold to get home, all he felt was despair.


	3. Chasing After You

Predictably, the whole not talking to Ian thing didn't last long. After about a week, Mickey realized that he'd have a better chance at getting Ian back if he continued to actually see him. So Mickey swallowed his pride and told Ian that they could be friends.

"Friends, huh?" Lip said with a roll of his eyes.

They were in the Gallagher kitchen and Mickey hadn't even realized Lip had been standing there. "Yeah, friends, Douchebag."

"Yeah, okay." Lip gave Mickey a knowing look. He knew exactly what Mickey was up to.

 

Since Ian returned to the Gallagher house, it seemed to Mickey that Fiona and Lip were completely running Ian's life. It seemed so unlike Ian to relinquish all control like that. One day, while they played video games in the Gallagher's living room with Mandy, Mickey questioned him about it. "Why do you let your brother and sister control you?"

Ian thought for a moment before answering. "I guess after all the things I've done to screw up my life, I lost confidence in my ability to make good decisions. If Fiona and Lip want to run things for me for a while, I think it might be best for now."

Mickey caught Mandy's eye and they exchanged a look. Ian was so beaten down by his disorder. But what he needed wasn't Fiona and Lip to run his life. What he needed was to regain his confidence. "That's bullshit, Ian. You always made way better decisions than those two clowns."

Ian looked at him and seemed to consider what he said. But then his expression turned dark and tired. "I don't know, Mick. I get what you're saying. But with all the meds fucking with my mind, I don't even know if I'm thinking straight half the time."

Mickey was angry at Fiona and Lip. They should be building up Ian's confidence in himself instead of running his life for him. But even Mickey had to admit that some positives had come out of Ian being under his siblings' control. Since moving back in with his family, Ian had returned to high school. He was no longer drinking or taking any illegal drugs (at least to Mickey's knowledge), and Mickey's favorite development: Ian was no longer working at the Fairy Tale. Instead, Linda had given Ian his old job back at the Kash N Grab.

A recent change that Mickey wasn't crazy about was that, since he and Ian had broken up, Ian's friendship with Mandy had intensified. They were constantly together. Mickey would see them holding hands in the street or sitting super close on the Milkovich couch, often with Ian's arm around Mandy. Mickey tried not to let it bother him but seeing them together all the time made him seethe with jealousy. Mickey couldn't help but feel like Ian was using Mandy as a replacement for him so that Ian wouldn't have to admit how much he missed Mickey. Mickey told himself that he just had to suck it up. After all, he'd certainly rather see Ian grow close to Mandy than anyone else.

Most days, Ian really did seem like the old Ian. Just a little quieter. And a little sadder.

Another month went by before Mickey came up with the idea of helping Ian with his math homework. Mickey was no genius when it came to math, but he was a hell of a lot better at it than Ian. So Ian started stopping by The Alibi daily on his way home from school. Mickey and Ian would sit at the bar together figuring out Ian's homework.

Being so close to Ian was both pleasure and pain for Mickey. Their fingers would often brush as they passed Ian's pencil back and forth. And their knees occasionally ended up resting against each other. Mickey couldn't decide which way Ian looked cuter: frowning in concentration over a math problem or smiling widely at one of Mickey's lame jokes. Mickey decided he preferred the smile. Making Ian happy filled Mickey's entire being with warmth. And Ian really did have the most beautiful smile Mickey had ever seen.

 

One afternoon, Mickey came downstairs at their usual time only to find some blonde kid sitting in his spot. He and Ian were perched on their stools, a text book in front of them. They were hunched forward towards the book and their faces were inches apart. And they were looking at each other. And Ian was smiling at the kid, just like he smiled at Mickey. Mickey was furious. He quickly approached the two. "Who the fuck are you?"

The blonde kid looked up at Mickey, clearly taken aback by his tone and words. Ian answered for him. "Hey, Mick. This is Brad. He's my lab partner. Brad, this is Mickey."

"Nice to meet you, Dude." But Brad barely looked at Mickey. He was too busy focusing all his attention on Ian. Mickey saw the adoring gaze the blonde directed at Ian and Mickey was annoyed because he knew that gaze all too well. That was how Ian used to look at Mickey. Sometimes still did, unless it was Mickey's mind playing tricks on him.

"How the fuck old are you?"

Brad finally turned to look at Mickey. "Eighteen."

"Well then you're too young to be sitting at this bar. Get the fuck out."

"Are you serious?" Brad then looked to Ian in confusion.

"Mickey . . ." Ian began to argue but Mickey cut him off.

"I said get the fuck out."

Brad was incredulous. "Ian is seventeen and he hangs out here every day."

Mickey was annoyed that this guy knew Ian's age and schedule. He didn't want him to know anything about him. "Yeah, well, you're not Ian."

Brad stood up. "Alright. Ian, let's head to the library." And then, he turned to look directly at Mickey. "Or better yet, let's go back to my house. No one's home. We can work without being disturbed."

Ian looked anxious and uncomfortable. His eyes darted between the two men and then over to the door. He suddenly started packing his stuff into his backpack. "I'm gonna go."

Brad was annoyed. "Our lab report is due tomorrow."

"I know. Sorry. I'm just . . . I'm sorry but I'm gonna go home."

Brad looked confused. "Alright. I'll write a draft and email it over to you tonight."

Ian barely looked up from his backpack. "Yeah. Okay."

Brad paused a moment as if waiting for Ian to say something else. But Ian was silent. "Okay. Later, Dude." He gave Ian's shoulder a small squeeze as he walked by and Mickey caught Ian flinch at the touch.

As Mickey watched Ian continue to shove his things into his backpack, he felt increasingly guilty and regretful. Ian had appeared so happy when Mickey first saw him at the bar with Brad and now he looked miserable. As jealous as Mickey felt seeing Ian enjoying someone else's company, he preferred Ian smiling with someone else to the anxious Ian standing before him now. Mickey touched his arm but Ian flinched, pulling away. "I'm sorry."

Suddenly Ian looked angry. "He's my fucking lab partner." His hands were shaking.

"I know. I fucked up. I'm sorry."

"Did you think I was fucking him?"

Ian was getting loud and Mickey looked around the bar uncomfortably. But no one seemed to be listening. "No, I didn't think that. Wait . . . are you?" Despite himself, Mickey's hands went into fists.

Ian shook his head. "I'm so done with this bullshit, Mick." Ian started to walk towards the door.

"Ian, wait . . ."

Ian turned to Mickey as he pulled open the red door. "He's a friend. Now that Mandy dropped out, he's pretty much the only friend I have in school."

"Okay, I get it. Can you just sit down and relax?"

Ian ignored him. "And you know what? I wasn't even the slightest bit interested in fucking him. But if I had been, it wouldn't have been any of your damn business." And then he let the door slam in Mickey's face.

Ian ignored Mickey's calls for the rest of the night. The more he didn't answer, the more obsessed with talking to him that Mickey became. Finally, he threw his phone at the wall just as Mandy entered the room. "What's with you?"

"Fucking Gallagher. He's such a drama queen sometimes."

"What happened?"

"He chewed me out because I got jealous of his fucking lab partner."

Mandy sat down next to Mickey. "You mean Brad?" Mickey nodded. "Yeah, he's a tool. And he totally wants to fuck Ian."

"Yeah, well, now he's not answering my calls."

Mandy leaned in closer. "So stop calling. I'm serious, Mickey. All you do lately is chase after him. Ian's great but so are you." Mickey looked at her, his face full of surprise. "I get that you care about him but he's not your boyfriend. And he obviously doesn't want to be, at least not now. You're out and Dad's in jail. Live your life, Mick."

 

Several hours and beers later, Mickey found himself at the Gallagher's front door. Mandy's words were echoing through Mickey's mind as he stood before Ian. Ian's arms were crossed over his chest and he wore a stubborn expression. He stood in the doorway and made no motion to make room for Mickey to come inside.

Mickey spoke softly. "I just came to tell you that you don't have to worry about me calling or stopping by anymore."

Ian's expression changed to one of interest. "Oh yeah?"

Mickey nodded. "I'm done chasing after you like some bitch." And then he walked away into the warm spring night.


	4. Different

Ian felt funny most of the time. Since emerging from his depression, he just didn't feel like himself anymore. He still saw the same face in the mirror, still wore the same tee shirts and sneakers. He still had the same red hair. But he felt different. And everything around him was the same - same kitchen, same bedroom, same neighborhood - yet it all felt oddly unfamiliar. School was especially weird. It was the same building, same desks. Yet, he was alone. Lip, Mickey, even Mandy were no longer there. But he didn't exactly feel lonely. He just felt strange.

Brad was Ian's only friend at school. Ian hadn't set out to make a friend. They were randomly assigned as lab partners. Ian could tell right away that Brad was attracted to him. Ian was not at all attracted to Brad but it didn't bother Ian that Brad wanted to have sex with him. Ian was used to guys wanting him for sex. Brad was good at science and more than willing to do the majority of the lab reports. He also invited Ian to sit with him and his friends at lunch. Ian didn't say much during these lunches but Brad's friends were okay guys and Ian was happy not to be sitting alone.

A couple weeks after Mickey stopped speaking to him, Brad invited Ian over to his house after school one Friday. Having no other plans, Ian accepted. After sharing a joint in Brad's bedroom, Brad pulled Ian close to him. Ian wouldn't kiss him but he let Brad fuck him on his bed. Lighting up a cigarette afterward, Brad smirked at him. "That was great."

Ian nodded in agreement but as he took a puff of the cigarette, he thought about the fact that he felt absolutely nothing during the sex. And he felt nothing towards Brad. But that wasn't surprising. Ian couldn't feel anything for any guy, no matter how nice or good looking. Ian couldn't feel anything for any guy because Ian was in love with Mickey.

 

Ian had majorly fucked up his relationship with Mickey. Sure, Mickey had treated him horribly in the past. Ian can still taste the blood from when Mickey kicked him in the mouth. And he can still recall feeling like his heart was being ripped out when Mickey said he was nothing but a warm mouth to him. But Mickey had been so good to him since he got back. And Ian was more in love with him than ever. But along with the love came a crippling anxiety that Mickey would leave him. This fear was so profound within Ian that he chose to go along with Fiona and Lip when they said he was better off being apart from him.

Being friends with Mickey had been okay. For a while, Mickey was meeting up with Ian every day after school to go over his math homework. Ian had savored every minute. He loved having Mickey's full attention focused on him. He loved the way Mickey's eyes would scan up and down his body, lingering on his eyes, his lips. Ian could tell that Mickey still cared about him. And he figured the limited contact provided less opportunity for Ian to fuck that up. But then he did manage to fuck it up anyway.

He doesn't know what he was thinking bringing Brad to the Alibi. It was a last minute decision and a bad one. He stupidly thought it would be nice to introduce Mickey to Brad, thought it would please Mickey to see that Ian was making friends. Maybe he just wanted Mickey to see that he was okay. He should have known Mickey would be jealous. In the past, Ian enjoyed when Mickey was jealous of other guys. But this time was different. Mickey and Brad were talking to each other like he wasn't even there, like he was just some object to be fought over. And suddenly Ian was furious because he had been treated like an object so many times by so many men but never by Mickey before. Suddenly, he couldn't stand the sight of either of them. He just had to get out of there. And he did.

 

When Mickey stopped by later that night, Ian was sure he and Mickey would make up. But that's not what Mickey came for. After Ian watched Mickey walk away, he sat in the basement smoking cigarette after cigarette, his hands trembling, feeling for the first time in months that there was no one in the world who still cared about him.

 

Things only got worse after that. Mickey avoided him. He still saw Mandy but there was suddenly a distance between them. Ian suspected that Mandy was mad at him for how he had treated Mickey. Also, she was back together with Kenyatta and it was no secret how much Ian hated him and disapproved of their relationship. So the hand holding and cuddling was suddenly over and Ian's craving for some kind of affectionate touch is most likely what led Ian to have sex with Brad. And to continue to have sex with Brad even though he didn't derive any pleasure from it.

Ian's siblings tried to be there for him. He and Debbie would sometimes watch movies together. And he had started giving Carl pointers on how to work out. Ian missed the close relationship he once shared with Lip. And he suspected Lip did too. One night, a few weeks after his fight with Mickey, Lip invited Ian to the movies with he and Amanda. After the movie, the three stopped by the Alibi for a drink. Ian was a little concerned about running into Mickey. It was a Saturday night and there was a good size crowd. Ian scanned the place and didn't see any sign of Mickey. Relieved, he joined Lip and Amanda at a table in the back.

"So what do you think?" Lip asked, after Amanda had left for the bathroom.

"About what?"

"About Amanda."

Ian shrugged. "I don't know. She's okay."

Lip smirked. "Okay? That's not exactly a ringing enforcement."

"Well, she's better than Karen so that's something."

Lip threw a straw wrapper across the table hitting Ian in the nose and they both laughed. Then, Lip's expression turned serious. "How about you?"

"What about me?"

"You know, how are you? How's school?"

Ian shrugged. "It's all fine, I guess."

"What about that guy you've been seeing?"

Ian looked up, surprised. "You mean Brad?"

"Whoever that blonde dude is you've been hanging out with. He your boyfriend?"

Ian scoffed. "Nah, man. He's nothing to me." 

At just that moment, Amanda sat back down next to Lip and leaned conspiratorially in Ian's direction. "I couldn't help but overhear that you're single and I'm thrilled because I have the perfect guy for you."

Ian groaned. "Thanks but I'm not looking."

"No, hear me out. He's tall and super cute." She winked at Ian. "He's pre-med and his parents are loaded. He also happens to be a really nice guy."

Ian played anxiously with the strings of his hoodie as Amanda and Lip looked at him expectantly. All the sudden, a low voice came out of nowhere. "Sounds like a hell of a guy. You should get on that, tough guy." Ian looked up to find Mickey smiling down at him. Mickey's smile was warm and genuine. "I'm going for a smoke. Come on. I want to talk to you."

Ian glanced across the table and caught Lip's disapproving scowl. Ignoring him, he got up from his chair. "Be right back, guys."

Ian followed Mickey outside and there was silence between them as Mickey handed Ian a cigarette. Ian stuck it between his lips before Mickey surprised him by lighting it for him. Mickey then lit his own and a few minutes passed while they smoked in silence. It had been weeks since they had last spoken and Ian felt awkward. He looked sideways at Mickey and felt a longing deep within himself.

Mickey had been looking out into the street in front of them when he suddenly turned to face Ian. "You doing okay?"

"You still care?"

Mickey took a big puff and slowly blew it out. "Of course I still care."

Ian shrugged. "I'm doing alright."

"You taking your medicine?"

Ian looked away, embarrassed. "Every day." Ian paused. He shouldn't ask but he just couldn't help himself. "You here with someone?"

Mickey's eyebrows shot up. "You still care?", he asked imitating Ian.

"Of course." Ian was dead serious.

Mickey laughed. "I'm on a hot date with my sister and a six month old. Relax, Ian."

Ian remained stone faced as he looked into Mickey's blue eyes. "If I found out you were fucking someone, I'd probably fucking kill the guy."

Mickey nodded. "I know the feeling."

Their eyes met in a meaningful gaze. Ian thought about Brad and felt a stab of guilt. He wondered if Mickey knew. "Mick, I . . ." Ian was interrupted by Lip's hand on his shoulder.

"It's late, man. Time to roll." Lip swung his arm around Ian, pulling him away from Mickey towards Amanda's car. Ian looked over his shoulder at Mickey.

Mickey raised a hand in goodbye and Ian could swear he saw the longing he felt reflected in Mickey's eyes. "Later, Gallagher."


	5. Missing

Ian couldn't stop thinking about Mickey the rest of the night. He had looked incredibly attractive standing under the light from the Alibi sign. Ian had always found Mickey sexy even before he started showering on a regular basis. Ian was drawn to everything about Mickey. He loved his deep voice, his black hair and blue eyes. He loved the way Mickey pretended not to care about Ian. It made it so much sweeter when Mickey let his affection for him slip out. After their conversation outside the Alibi earlier that night, Ian was pretty sure that Mickey still wanted him.

After tossing and turning in bed for several hours, Ian went to the one place where he could have privacy: the bathroom. He stood in the shower with the hot water running over his face and body. Thoughts of Mickey's smile were in his mind. And then Mickey's body and all the things Ian wanted to do to that body. All the things he had done to it in the past and all the things Mickey had done to him. Ian began touching himself and came after a shockingly short time. And with that release came tears because Ian had fucked up and pushed away the best thing in his life. And now he missed Mickey so much he could barely function. Ian had to tell Mickey the truth. Even though it terrified him to put himself out there, totally naked and vulnerable, he had to tell Mickey that he loved him.

 

The next day was Sunday and Ian had plans to hang out with Brad. Ian figured it was the right time to break things off with him. Ian met up with him at Brad's house. As usual they were home alone, smoking marijuana on the living room couch. "How come your parents are never home?"

Brad shrugged. "They work nights and weekends. They sleep when I'm at school. It's always been that way."

"Sounds lonely."

Brad smiled, taking Ian's chin in one hand. "Not feeling lonely now." He pulled Ian's face close to his but Ian pulled away. Anger and frustration took over Brad's features. "Fuck, Ian. When are you gonna let me kiss you? It was cute at first but now it's just fucking annoying."

Ian was taken aback. He had never seen Brad angry before. When Ian didn't respond, Brad went to the kitchen and returned with a beer for each of them and a softer expression on his face.

"I'm serious, Ian. Like what are we doing here? We hang out all the time, we fuck at least three times a week. I get that you don't want to be out at school but are you my boyfriend or what?"

"No."

Brad looked confused. "No what?"

"No, I'm not your boyfriend." Ian took a gulp of his beer and leaned back on the couch. He felt guilty. Brad was a nice guy and Ian had used him. Seemed like fucking up and hurting people was all he was capable of these days. "I'm sorry. I'm in love with someone else. I should have told you."

The anger was seeping back into Brad's features. "Seriously, Ian? You're in love with someone else? I don't think you were thinking about him while I was fucking you in the ass!"

Ian got up. "Listen, I was wrong and I'm sorry. I like hanging out with you. I shouldn't have let the other stuff happen. I was lonely. It was a mistake. I'm sorry." He wanted to leave but as he tried to pass the other boy, Brad grabbed him by the arm and slammed him against the wall. Ian's head hit the wall hard and he felt dizzy.

"You're a fucking slut." Ian didn't respond, just held his head where it was now throbbing. "So who is this guy? Maybe I need to pay him a visit, tell him exactly what you've been up to all these weeks."

Ian felt panic rising inside him. "No. I don't want you to do that."

Brad glared at him. Then he smirked codly as realization spread across his face. "It's the guy from the bar. That's the fucker, isn't it?" Brad shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you'd reject me for that loser. Then again, I always knew you were dumb as shit - can't do a lab report to save your life. And the entire south side knows you're fucking crazy."

Ian's eyes filled with tears and he hated himself for it. He tried again to walk past Brad and was again thrown into the wall and this time Brad slapped him hard across the face. Then, gripping Ian's chin hard enough to leave bruises, he spat in Ian's face. "Fuck you, Ian Gallagher. You better watch your fucking back."

Ian looked into Brad's eyes and knew the threat was real. After another moment, Brad released him from his grip and Ian practically ran out the door.

 

The walk home seemed endless and Ian didn't know if he was going to make it. His heart was racing and his whole body was shaking. But the worst part was that tears were pooling in his eyes, threatening to fall down his cheeks. He wondered what the fuck was wrong with him. He didn't even try to defend himself against Brad. And now he was crying like a little girl. When had he become such a little bitch? He told himself that it had to be the medication. He had always been a tough guy, never one to back down from a fight. He didn't know what was happening to him or who he was anymore and it was the scariest thing he had ever experienced. And the worst part was that he couldn't share it with anyone because that would show just how fucking crazy he really was and no one would want to deal with that. Not even his family.

He finally made it home and collapsed onto the living room couch. If Brad told Mickey what happened between the two, Ian was certain that Mickey would be done with him for good. The tears he had been fighting rolled down his cheeks. His heart was still racing and his head and chin were sore from when Brad roughed him up. Ian picked up his phone. He could barely hold onto it because his hands were shaking so badly.

Lip answered on the third ring. "Ian? What's up, you okay?"

Ian tried to keep his voice steady. He didn't want Lip to know he had been crying. "Not really. Can you come home?"

"What happened?"

"Just . . . can you please come home? I'm not okay. I need to talk to you."

"I have class in twenty minutes."

"Please, Lip." He was unable to hide the desperation in his voice.

"Okay. I'll leave now. Don't go anywhere. Just try and relax."

After hanging up, Ian leaned back, resting his head on the back of the couch. He told himself to calm down. Lip would know what to do. Lip would help him. Everything would be okay. Just then, the front door flew open and Ian didn't know if he should be relieved or alarmed when he saw who was standing there.

 

Mickey knew something was wrong as soon as he saw Lip enter the Alibi and approach him. "You seen Ian?"

"Not since last night with you."

"You're sure nothing happened between you two? You didn't talk on the phone this morning? It's important."

"I haven't heard from him. What's going on?"

"Shit." Lip ran his hand through his hair and licked his lips nervously. Mickey knew he was worried because he was lacking his usual arrogant swagger and condescending tone.

"You're making me worried. What's going on?"

Lip sat down at the bar and motioned towards Kevin. "Two beers, man."

Mickey sat down beside him, preparing himself for bad news. "He called me at school this morning. Which he never fucking does, by the way. Anyway, he was upset. Begged me to come home. Said he needed to talk to me." Lip took a long sip of his beer before continuing. Mickey did the same. "Anyway, I made it home in a little over an hour and he was gone. No sign of him."

Mickey started to take out his phone. "You call him?"

Lip glared at Mickey like he was the dumbest fucker on the planet. "What do you think? His phone is dead or off. I don't know. It doesn't ring."

"You check with Fiona? Last time Ian went missing your sister had him the whole time."

Lip shook his head miserably. "Checked with all my siblings and no one's seen him. Fiona's beside herself."

Mickey felt panic rising inside him. Suddenly, Lip looked at him accusingly. "What did you guys talk about last night?"

"How the fuck is that your business?"

"Because he's my little brother and he's in trouble and I want to know if you said something to make him want to leave."

Mickey slammed his beer down. "The fact that you're his brother and he cares about you is the only reason you're not laying on the floor right now."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." Mickey got right in his face. "He was good when he was staying with me. I kept him safe. He was getting better. Then you assholes had to interfere and convince him to leave. You were so fucking sure you could take care of him better than me and now look where we are. Now he's out there somewhere alone or with God knows who. And now you want to pin this shit on me? This is on you, asshole. This is all on you and Fiona. And if we don't find him safe and in one piece, I promise you that you'll be taking a wheelchair to class next semester."

Mickey stormed out of the Alibi. It had taken all of his self control not to beat the shit out of Lip. He was trying hard to stay calm. He had just seen Ian the night before and he had seemed okay. What could have happened between then and now? Mickey retrieved his phone from his pocket and called Mandy.

"Mick? I can't talk. I'll call you after my shift ends."

"It can't wait."

"You wanna get me fired?"

"It's an emergency."

"Ian?"

"He's missing."

"Fuck."

"Yeah, it's bad. Apparently, he called Lip all upset earlier and asked him to come home. But when Lip got there, Ian was gone. Now his phone is off or dead and no one's heard from him in hours."

"I saw him at the Alibi last night. I didn't go over to say hi because I didn't want to face Lip and that smug slut bag he's dating. Now I feel bad. Maybe if I had talked to him he would have told me what was wrong."

"I talked to him last night when I went out for a smoke."

"Yeah?"

"Just briefly. He seemed okay. I mean, kind of tense, not particularly happy. But okay. Said he was taking his medicine. Said he was doing alright. Then he looked like he really wanted to tell me something but that douchebag brother of his dragged him away before he got the chance."

"You might . . . ." Mandy hesitated. And Mickey could imagine her biting her lip anxiously on the other end of the line.

"You got something to say?"

"It's just, it's awkward, Mick."

"If it's something that can help me find Ian, then say it."

"You should talk to Brad."

"The lab partner?"

"Yeah. He and Ian have been spending a lot of time together lately. I mean, I don't know if they're just friends or what. Truth is, I haven't seen much of Ian lately. Haven't been very responsive to him."

"Why the fuck not? I thought you guys were best friends or some shit."

"I guess I was just mad at him. About how he treated you and because he fucking hates my boyfriend."

"Doesn't matter now. Where can I find this Brad asshole?"

 

The sun was starting to go down by the time Mickey made it to Brad's front door. It hadn't been easy to track him down. Mickey recognized him instantly when he answered the door and it was obvious from the other boy's smug expression that he recognized Mickey, as well. Brad stepped out onto the front stoop closing the front door behind him. Mickey wasted no time getting to the point. "I'm looking for Ian. You seen him?"

"That dumb slut. Not since this morning."

Mickey's eyebrows shot up. "What did you just call him?"

"A dumb slut because that's what he is."

Mickey's hands went into fists but his voice was calm. "Say it again and I'll put your head through a fucking wall."

Brad put his hands up in surrender but the smug smile remained. "Okay, relax."

"What did you say to him earlier?"

Brad shrugged. "What's it to you?"

"Because he's missing and you're the last person who saw him. Now tell me what went down earlier between you two or I'm going to get out my brass knuckles and beat it out of you."

For the first time, Brad looked intimidated. "He came over. Told me we couldn't fuck anymore because he was in love with someone else. Any idea who he could have been talking about?" Brad looked him right in the eye with a taunting expression. Mickey felt an ache in his heart. He wished Ian would have told him he felt that way.

"So then what happened?"

"I was pissed off. I mean, he wasn't thinking about y . . . this other guy the other fifteen times he let me fuck him. So yeah, I was mad. I roughed him up a little. Told him the truth, which is that he's dumb as fuck and crazy to boot and all he's good for is a decent fuck."

Mickey punched him hard in the stomach before grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and holding him hard against the door. 

Brad was writhing in pain, trying to catch his breath. "Fuck, man. You wanted the truth and I gave it to you. That's all that happened. Ian and I are done. I don't know where he is. Just leave me alone."

Their faces were inches apart. "You ever go near him again I will end you. Understand?"

Brad nodded. Mickey stared him down another minute pondering whether to beat the shit out of him but decided against it. That would take time and energy and Mickey had neither to spare. Nightime was approaching and he needed to find Ian. So he let go of Brad's collar and watched him drop to his knees. Oh what the hell, he thought, before giving one quick and brutal kick to Brad's face. "That's what happens when you mess with Ian Gallagher. Remember that." And then he was back on the street without looking back.


	6. Searching

Mickey sat at the bar nursing a whiskey and trying to decide his next move. It was nearly ten o'clock at night and he had no leads to go on. The whiskey was to keep him calm but also to keep certain thoughts out of his head. Like imagining that piece of shit fucking Ian. To add salt to the wound, Ian and Mickey hadn't even fucked since the night Mickey came out to his family. It was enough to make Mickey want to bang his own head against the bar. Or just drink himself unconscious. But neither was an option at the moment. If only Ian had told him that he loved him the night before. Mickey would have taken him back in a second. Then, Ian would be safe in Mickey's arms right now instead of out somewhere alone in God only knew what sort of mental state.

Mickey was worried about Ian's mental state because he knew the things Brad said to him would have cut Ian deep. Ian's biggest fear was being crazy and Mickey knew his self-esteem was shot after fucking up all his military plans. So hearing that he was dumb would have hit him hard, as well. More than anything, Mickey wanted to comfort him and assure him that he was none of those things. Ian was smart and kind and definitely not crazy. In fact, Brad was the crazy one if he could spend all that time with Ian and still think all he was worth was a decent fuck. Ian was worth so much more than that. To Mickey, Ian was everything. Mickey knew that he loved him and that he could never love anyone else the way he loved Ian. But, for whatever reason, he doubted he'd ever be able to say it out loud.

Mickey was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't notice that Lip was sitting beside him, wearing a sheepish expression, until he started speaking. "Look, I get why you blame me and you're not wrong. My whole life I've been super protective of Ian. Then, the one time I ease up, he runs off to the military, fucks up his entire life and ends up with a mental illness. I guess after all that, I felt doubly protective, like I needed to make up for when I wasn't there for him."

Mickey nodded but didn't speak. Instead, he downed the rest of his drink.

Lip continued. "I'll be honest here. I've never understood what Ian sees in you and I don't think you're good enough for him. So yeah, after he started getting better, I tried to keep you guys apart. It wasn't my place to do that and I regret it. And there's something you should know. He loves you. He told Mandy and I at your wedding."

For the first time since Lip sat down, Mickey looked at him.

"You ripped his heart out when you married her, Man. You need to know that. He hasn't been the same since."

Mickey barely resisted the urge to order another whiskey as he put his head in his hands.

Lip put a hand on his shoulder. "Look, you and I both played our part in this and it's no secret we can't stand each other but we have the same goal here. You and I are probably the two people who know him best. Let me help you look for him and I swear I won't do anything to keep you guys apart ever again. I swear, Man. I care about him too. I just want him back."

Mickey lifted his head up and slowly turned to Lip. "Okay. But I hope you have a lead because I've got nothing."

Lip bit his lip. "Ian's been seeing someone . . ."

Mickey waved his hand to cut Lip off. "I know. I dealt with him earlier. Apparently, he saw Ian this morning. Ian tried to break things off with him and the guy flipped out, roughed him up and called him some names. I'm guessing that's what he wanted to talk to you about when he called you. But that doesn't explain why he left. Something must have happened after he talked to you."

Lip nodded before looking down at his watch. Then, he retrieved a couple pill containers from his pocket. "These are empty. He took all his medicine with him. I don't know if I should be relieved that he has his medicine or worried that he took it all because he doesn't plan on coming back."

Mickey nodded, a sick feeling settling in his gut. "Did you check with Linda? Maybe he picked up an extra shift?" But Mickey knew it wasn't likely even as he said it.

Lip perked up, shoving the pill containers back in his pocket. "Linda hasn't seen him but you just gave me an idea." Lip threw a few bills down on the bar and stood. "Come on, I just thought of where he might be."

 

It was after eleven when they reached the Fairy Tail and the place was already getting busy. Lip followed Mickey as he wove his way through the crowd to one of the bartenders that Mickey recognized. "Hey, you're Tom, right?"

"It's Tim - close enough." Tim was studying Mickey's face as if trying to place it. "I remember you. You're with Ian, right?"

"Yeah. Have you seen him."

"Yeah, you actually just missed him."

Mickey bit his lip in frustration. Lip approached Tim. "Hey, I'm Ian's brother. Listen, what was he here for and was he alone?"

"Damn, Ian's brother, huh? Good looking family!" Tim was looking Lip up and down with a lustful expression.

Mickey's impatience was at its breaking point. "Can we focus here? Answer his question."

Tim grinned teasingly at Lip before turning to Mickey as he began drying a glass with a hand towel. "He came to collect his last paycheck. Boss was wondering when he was going to get around to picking it up."

Mickey scanned the crowd hoping he might still be there. "You sure he left? Was he alone?"

"I watched him walk out. And no, he wasn't alone. He was with some old guy. Real creepy looking dude, to tell you the truth. From what I saw, the old guy did most of the talking. It was kinda weird."

Mickey felt his heart sink. One of his fears was that Ian would end up going home with some guy that would pick up on his vulnerability and take advantage of him. He cringed as he imagined some old perv on top of Ian, his disgusting hands all over Ian's body.

Suddenly Lip grabbed his phone out of his jeans and started flipping through it before holding out a picture to Tim. "Is this the guy?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah, that's definitely him. You know him?"

Mickey looked questioningly at Lip, who turned the phone around towards Mickey. "Ian's with Frank."

 

Mickey and Lip rode the train back to the south side in silence. If only Mickey had thought to go to the club himself, he might have gotten there in time and Ian might be next to him right at that very moment, riding the train home to Mickey's house. The fact that they had been so close to finding him only to have completely missed him was like a knife through Mickey's heart. Finally, Mickey turned to Lip. "So how bad is it? Ian being with Frank?"

Lip shook his head. "It's not good. Think about it: he convinces Ian to bring all his medicine then takes him to collect his final paycheck. By now Frank's probably sold all of Ian's meds, cashed Ian's paycheck and spent it all on either liquor or drugs or both. My guess is they're getting completely shit faced together as we speak. And that's really fucking dangerous with all the heavy psych meds Ian's got in his system."

"But you're Gallaghers, right? Don't you guys all love each other deep down or some shit?"

Lip shook his head morosely. "Frank has never liked Ian. He was always beating up on him when we were growing up. That's how I ended up being so protective of him in the first place. Trust me, he wouldn't think twice about leaving Ian in a ditch somewhere with a needle in his arm. In fact, he'd gladly do it if it meant more drugs for himself."

Mickey rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, exhaustion and fear flashing through his body like lightening. "Things just keep getting fucking worse."

Lip looked at his watch. "It's after midnight. You look spent. We should call it a night. Resume our search first thing in the morning, yeah?"

Mickey sighed. "You can do whatever you fucking want. No way I'm getting in a warm bed while Ian's out there with Frank doing God knows what."

Lip looked at Mickey and some sort of realization showed on his features. "So what do we do next?"

Mickey looked up at him, surprised at the "we" in his words. "Let's go get a coffee. Wake up a little so we can figure out our next move. There are only two things I know for sure: I'm not going home without Ian and I'm gonna kill your fucking dad when I find him."


	7. Rescue

Ian awoke to find himself on his back on a hard floor. He attempted to open his eyes but the lids felt too heavy, almost like his eyes were glued shut. He was shivering violently and wished someone would throw a blanket on him. He didn't know where he was. He wanted to call out for help but seemed incapable of producing any kind of sound. He could hear music in the background and a lot of voices, none that he recognized.

Suddenly, he heard a voice he knew: his mother's. She was laughing. And then he was struck by a hazy memory of following Frank out of the Gallagher house, allowing Frank to lead him all over the city, cashing Ian's paycheck and selling Ian's meds before finally ending up at the abandoned house where Ian had stayed with Monica months before. And Monica had been there, taken Ian into her arms and it had been so comforting because Ian had lost everything and only wanted to be held by someone who still loved him, despite how broken he was.

But Ian couldn't remember anything after that. Frank had surely returned armed with alcohol and drugs but Ian had no memory of it. He knew from his current state that he had ingested something but he had no idea what. He was too weak to feel fear at that moment. All he felt was cold. 

Suddenly, he felt the sensation of being lifted, carried a short distance and laid on some kind of thin and creaky mattress. And then Monica's voice alternating with that of a male voice he didn't know. It was a back and forth, like some kind of negotiation. His mother sounded hesitant but desperate, the man pushy. They were so close to him that Ian was finally able to make out some of their words. "Okay", Monica mumbled, her words harshly slurred, "just don't hurt him."

And the man laughed. "I gotta go get the stuff. Keep him here. Don't worry - it'll be a party all around."

Ian passed out to the sound of his mother's nervous laughter.

 

Mickey, Lip and Fiona sat around the Gallagher's kitchen table drinking coffee. Mickey and Lip were chain smoking while Fiona gripped her coffee mug hard with one hand, rubbing her tired, wet eyes with the other. It was close to two in the morning and they hadn't gotten any closer to finding Ian.

Earlier, Lip and Mickey had taken the van and driven all over the south side to any place they thought Ian might be. They checked the dug out, under the bleachers, the abandoned buildings and roofs that Mickey and Ian used to meet up at. They checked under the L train, Sheila's house and the Alibi. No one had seen Ian or Frank.

Mickey couldn't look at Fiona because he knew he would see all the fear and despair that he felt reflected back at him. And then he might not be able to hold it together any longer. As it was, he was hanging on to his sanity by a thread. Earlier, his eyes had focused on Ian's favorite mug in the kitchen sink, the mug Mickey had filled for him before, the one that Mickey had once grabbed out of Ian's hands, stealing a long sip, causing Ian to flash that beautiful smile at Mickey. And then a little while after that, Mickey felt something soft on his back and realized that Ian's hoodie was on the back of the chair. Mickey ran the soft fabric through his fingers and remembered Ian making pancakes and showing Mickey that picture of the sunset he had been so proud of. And Mickey almost lost it then. But he had to stay calm and focused or they had no chance of finding Ian.

Lip was suddenly on his feet, pacing. "What I don't get is why Frank didn't just bring Ian back after he took all his meds and money. Frank doesn't like being around Ian. Why would he want to keep him around and have to share his stash with him?"

Fiona put her mug down and looked up at Lip. "Maybe he got too drunk to even notice Ian was still with him."

"No, I don't think so. I think he wanted something else from Ian." 

Mickey stubbed out his cigarette. "Like what?"

And then Lip looked at Fiona, his eyes bright with realization. "Like Monica."

Mickey was confused. "Who the fuck is Monica?"

Fiona shook her head. "Our mother. But No one's heard from her in close to a year."

"Ian has. He stayed with her part of the time he was away. I bet Frank used some of the money to buy drugs for Monica, then had Ian take him to her."

Mickey stood. "Where?"

"An abandoned crack house on the edge of town. I still remember how to get there. Come on!"

Fiona started to get up but Lip put a hand on her shoulder. "It's not safe, Fiona. Stay here with the kids. I'll call you as soon as we know something." Fiona looked like she wanted to argue but sat back down.

Mickey grabbed Ian's hoodie from the back of the chair and followed Lip out the door.

 

Mickey was horrified when he entered the house. He could hardly believe Ian had stayed in such an awful place. He was instantly overcome with guilt knowing that his actions had led Ian to leave his loving home for this hell. Mickey was suddenly paralyzed. Everywhere he looked he saw broken people laying on the ground, drugs and alcohol all around them. There was excrement on the floor and roaches on the walls. Mickey gagged from the odor. He could see Lip running from room to room, yelling Ian's name but he felt oddly removed from it. And then Lip called Mickey's name, startling him out of his stupor as Mickey followed Lip up the stairs to the second floor. 

It was quieter upstairs and slightly cleaner. Mickey and Lip instantly spotted Frank passed out by the top of the stairs, an empty bottle in his hands. Lip knelt down in front of him, shaking him violently. "Frank, wake the fuck up. Wake up!" But Frank was out cold and merely slumped to one side, the bottle slipping out of his hands and rolling across the room.

And that's when Mickey turned and spotted Ian passed out on a thin mattress on the floor in one of the bedrooms. He was wearing a dark grey tee shirt and jeans. One of his sneakers was missing. He lay completely flat on his back with his head turned to one side, his cheek against the filthy mattress. Mickey called Lip's name as he ran to Ian and knelt down beside him, taking his face in his hands. "Ian, are you alright?" Ian responded with a barely audible moan and his skin felt cold to Mickey's touch.

It was then that Mickey noticed a blonde woman sitting beside Ian, clearly stoned. Lip was on her before Mickey could even process who she was. Lip grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her almost as violently as he had shaken Frank a moment before. "What did he take?"

Monica giggled a little. "Hi, Baby. Your brother found me tonight. I missed you boys so much."

Mickey had given Ian a gently shake as he spoke softly to him, saying his name and asking him questions. He turned to Lip, a growing panic clear in his voice. "Lip, I can't wake him up."

Lip grabbed Monica by the face, forcing her to look at him. "Monica, what the fuck did he take?!"

"I don't know. I think he was just drinking."

Suddenly, a man was in the room looking at Mickey kneeling over Ian. He had a bag in his hands and he turned to Monica with a voice full of rage. "What the hell is this? We had a deal, Bitch! I got you what you asked for. Who the hell are they?"

Realization hit Mickey and he was on his feet in a second. He stood in front of Ian protectively, focusing his glare on Monica. "You tried to sell your own son for drugs."

Lip looked between the two. And then he focused on his mother, disbelief written all over his face. Monica looked anywhere but into her son's eyes as she mumbled a response. "He promised he wouldn't hurt him."

Mickey lunged at her. "I will murder you!" But Lip grabbed Mickey, pushing him away from Monica and into the wall behind him. "Mickey, calm the fuck down! She's our mother!"

Mickey stopped fighting and Lip released him. The man with the bag was long gone. Mickey looked at Monica with a rage Lip had never before seen on Mickey's features. Lip spoke softly to Mickey, trying to calm him. "Focus on Ian, Mickey." And that seemed to work because Mickey's eyes flashed back to Ian and he was beside him a moment later.

Mickey stroked his cheek with his thumb. "He's not waking up. We need to call 911."

Lip was on the other side of Ian. "No. he's not eighteen yet. If we take him to the hospital, they'll call child protective services. After what happened with Liam, this will be the final straw. Fiona will lose custody of the little ones for good."

Mickey looked at Lip, understanding on his face but also fear. "He could die."

Lip flinched at Mickey's words. "No, he'll be okay. Let's just hope Monica's right and he only had alcohol. We gotta make him throw up." Before Mickey could protest, Lip stuck a finger down Ian's throat causing him to retch violently. The boys sat him up and supported his back as Ian threw up repeatedly. Mickey had tears in his eyes as he watched Ian suffer. Finally, the retching stopped and Ian's red, watery eyes opened slightly.

Mickey rubbed his back. "Ian, you okay?"

Ian looked at Mickey and then fell heavily against him. Mickey put his arms around him, holding him close.

Lip looked relieved. "Let's get him home. We'll call Veronica. She's practically a nurse."

Mickey raised his eyebrows. "Practically?" But he didn't argue.

Lip glanced down at his mother, who was slumped over, moments away from passing out. Then, he turned to Mickey. "You need help with him?"

Mickey shook his head. "No, I got him." Mickey picked Ian up effortlessly. It was obvious to Mickey how much weight Ian had lost since he had carried him home from the club the night Mickey first found him. That night, Mickey had struggled under Ian's weight. This time, Ian felt like a child in Mickey's arms.

 

The drive home was quiet and fast. Lip drove while Mickey sat in the back, Ian leaning against him. Ian was shaking so Mickey put the hoodie on him, struggling to guide Ian's trembling arms through the sleeves. Then, Mickey zipped the hoodie up to Ian's neck, pulling the hood over Ian's head before pulling Ian close so that Ian's face leaned against Mickey's chest, Mickey's arms around him. Nobody said a word the entire drive.

 

When they arrived home, the Gallagher house was quiet for once and Mickey was thankful for it. Lip had texted Fiona so she was expecting them. Ian was recovering quickly so they decided not to bother Veronica. He managed to walk in on his own two shaky legs and Fiona had him in her arms immediately. Ian seemed to melt into her and Fiona guided him to the couch where they sat side by side, Ian's head on Fiona's shoulder. Lip sat on Ian's other side. Mickey stood somewhat ackwardly to the side, his arms folded across his chest.

Fiona kissed the top of Ian's head. "We were so worried. Are you okay?"

Ian nodded. He seemed to be sobering up quickly but still far from okay. His eyes were watery and his voice broke as he spoke. "Frank sold all my pills."

And you don't even know what your mother tried to sell, Mickey thought but didn't dare say. Mickey shivered just thinking about what could have happened to Ian if they'd gotten to him just a few minutes later.

Lip shrugged. "Fucking Frank. Don't worry about it. We'll figure things out. We always do." A look of understanding passed between the three Gallagher siblings and Mickey suddenly felt out of place. Lip stood up, yawning loudly. "Let's go to bed. Liam will be up in a few hours demanding breakfast." He turned to Ian with a grin. "You look like shit but I think you'll survive the night."

Fiona reluctantly let go of Ian and followed Lip upstairs leaving Mickey and Ian alone in the living room. Mickey sat down beside him. There was silence a few moments before Mickey spoke. "Damn, Gallagher, I thought my family was fucked up."

Ian laughed softly and then took Mickey's hand. "I fucked Brad."

"I know. Doesn't matter."

Ian looked at Mickey. "Come here. I want to tell you something." His words were still slightly slurred.

Mickey leaned his head in close to Ian. Ian had tears in his eyes and looked like he was going to say something but at the last second, he kissed Mickey's cheek instead.

Mickey swung an arm over Ian's shoulders and pulled him close as tears rolled down Ian's face. "It's okay, Tough Guy, I love you too."


	8. Secrets

Ian slept like a baby in Mickey's arms that night. He had been so exhausted that Mickey had barely gotten Ian out of his jeans before he collapsed on the bed still in his tee shirt and boxers. Mickey removed his own jeans before climbing in beside him. Lip had kindly given them his room for the night so they had privacy and more space then in Ian's tiny bed.

As soon as Mickey hit the mattress, Ian reached for him and Mickey pulled him in as close as possible. They hadn't fucked in months and Mickey was practically out of his mind with desire but he knew Ian was in no condition for anything but sleep. And Ian was in a deep sleep almost instantly.

Mickey, on the other hand, couldn't sleep to save his life. For one thing, he was still worried about Ian and found himself obsessively listening for the soft sounds of Ian's breaths, as he was genuinely afraid that Ian could stop breathing at any point. After all, Mickey didn't know what the consequence was for mixing alcohol with Ian's meds, only that he wasn't supposed to do it. Not to mention that Mickey didn't even know for sure that it was only alcohol Ian had ingested. All these thoughts made him pull Ian closer to him, as if burying his face in Ian's hair and breathing in his perfect scent could somehow keep Ian alive.

Mickey was in way too deep with Ian. This was what he had always feared and tried to avoid. And yet, despite all his hard work to push Ian away and deny his feelings, he was now totally fucked when it came to the redhead. He was madly in love with him and knew there was no way he could possibly live without him. And this terrified Mickey.

Ever since Ian's breakdown, Mickey knew how fragile he was. But this latest episode proved to Mickey that Ian was far more vulnerable and in need of protection than Mickey had previously thought. How would Mickey protect him? Mickey prided himself on being a tough man and he knew how to protect and take care of himself but, despite his earlier claims to Fiona, he really didn't have any idea how to do that for someone else.

Mickey looked at Ian's face beside him. The boy had lost so much weight that he was starting to resemble the fifteen year old version of himself that Mickey had first fallen for. They had been on such a long journey together but this was still just the beginning. Mickey knew that he would figure things out. He would find a way to take care of himself and Ian. He would keep them safe. As long as they were together, they would be okay.

 

After a couple hours of tossing and turning, Mickey gave up the fight for sleep. His mind was racing. He picked up Ian's jeans from the floor and retrieved his phone from one of the pockets. Mickey quickly spotted a charger on one of the end tables and plugged it in. After a few moments, the screen came to life.

Of course, there were dozens of missed calls and texts to scroll through. Mickey ignored all the texts from himself and Ian's siblings but noticed a bunch of texts from Brad, all sent within the past twelve hours. All had been left unread. Mickey began reading them:

10:05pm  
"Ian, we need to talk."

10:30pm  
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things to you. I was just upset."

11:15pm  
"Can you please call me?"

11:45pm  
"I'm sorry I slammed your head against the wall and spit in your face."

Mickey's eyebrows flew up at that text. Maybe he'd go back and kick this guy's ass in the morning.

12:00am  
"Ian, I'm in love with you. You don't belong with that loser. Come back and I'll consider letting you top once in a while."

Okay, Mickey was definitely going to kick this guy's ass.

2:00am  
I'm not kidding around here. You better fucking call me. We're not done."

Mickey sighed. Just what he needed: another problem. But he was only mildly concerned. He deleted all the texts from Brad. He would deal with that little punk in the morning. No reason to worry Ian over it.

Mickey didn't see anything else out of the ordinary. He wasn't trying to invade Ian's privacy but he felt like Ian had left him no other choice. Mickey had to protect him and he couldn't do that unless he knew what was going on in Ian's life. Mickey put the phone down and sat down in bed beside Ian. Leaning his head back against the wall, he lit his final cigarette. Exhaustion was finally catching up to him. He gazed down at Ian's sleeping face and ran his hand through the red hair. Now that the adrenaline from the night was finally fading, he found himself flooded with relief that Ian was safe beside him. Finally able to relax, he put out his cigarette. Mickey pulled Ian close and was asleep almost instantly.

 

Mickey awoke to his phone vibrating. It was Mandy. He sat up to find Ian sitting up beside him, his knees pulled up to his chin, appearing ill. Mickey ignored his phone and put his hand on Ian's bare knee. "Hey."

Ian looked at him with red, watery eyes. "Hey."

"Feeling sick?"

Ian nodded with a tiny grin. "I've been better."

Mickey smiled back at him as his phone began to ring again. He looked down at the screen and saw that it was Mandy again. He bit his lip, unsure whether to answer.

"Get it." Ian said, nodding towards the phone.

Mickey was still unsure. "Yeah? Don't go anywhere?"

Ian nodded and Mickey answered. "Mandy, not a good time."

You need to come home right now."

"I'm busy with important shit." Mickey squeezed Ian's knee.

"Douchebag, this is more important."

Mickey felt anger in his chest. Why was Mandy fucking this up for him? No, he wouldn't let her. He wasn't leaving the Gallagher house until he and Ian were a couple again. "Mandy, fuck off."

"It's about Dad."

Mickey felt adrenaline shoot through his body. He tried to keep his voice steady as his hand slipped off Ian's knee. "What about him?"

"Iggy saw him in prison. He's planning shit. It's bad. You need to come home and deal with it."

Mickey looked at Ian who was looking back at him curiously. Ian was so beautiful sitting there with his disheveled hair and ridiculously boyish face. Mickey wanted to grab him and kiss him all over his face and body. His need for physical contact after so long was so strong that it was an actual ache. Mickey wanted to stay there with Ian forever. The last place he wanted to go was home. Mickey ran a hand through his hair. He couldn't bare to leave Ian but if his dad was up to something then he needed to know about it. He sighed and muttered reluctantly. "Okay."

Ian was looking at Mickey expectantly as he hung up the phone. "Everything okay?"

"Who the fuck knows." Mickey sighed. "So I really wanna talk to you but I gotta go take care of some family shit right now." Ian nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it."

Mickey got up and pulled on his jeans, his eyes never leaving Ian, who sat on the edge of the bed holding his stomach, a nauseated expression on his face. "Hey, you sure you're okay?"

Ian put his face in his hands. "Fuck, my head hurts. What the hell did I take last night?"

Mickey sat next to him. "Fuck if I know. Listen, I'm going over to my house to deal with this family shit. Will you stop by later?"

Ian nodded then looked at his watch. "Fuck. I gotta get more meds. Missed a couple doses already."

Mickey put a hand on Ian's shoulder. "I'll take care of it. Just stay out of trouble for a few hours. Think you can manage that?" 

Mickey was smiling but Ian's expression was serious. Mickey hated how exhausted and worried Ian appeared. "Okay."

 

Mickey was back at the Milkovich house within the hour. Iggy and Mandy were sitting at the table, a folder laid out in front of them. Mickey threw his coat and scarf over a chair and sat down. "What the fuck is so important anyway?"

Mandy was tense. "Iggy met with Dad yesterday."

"Yeah, you said. Why the fuck would you wanna do that?"

Iggy scratched at the stubble on his chin. Mickey noticed that his fingernails were dirty. It wasn't that long ago that he himself neglected to shower. He probably still would if it weren't for Ian. God, he just couldn't keep Ian out of his mind. Iggy's voice snapped Mickey out of his thoughts. "Dad asked me to visit him. I figured he just wanted me to bring him some smokes or whatever. But when I got there, he gave me the name of some prison friend who recently got out. Said the guy owed him a favor and that I needed to go see him. So I go to the guy's apartment and he shows me this." 

Iggy slid the folder across the table to Mickey. "What the fuck is this?"

Mandy bit her lip and put a hand over Mickey's. "Open it, Mick."

Mickey brushed Mandy's hand away. He was growing impatient. He was so sick of his father's bullshit. But when he opened the folder, his eyes grew wide. Inside, were photos of Ian. Hundreds of them. Mickey scanned the photos, his entire body tensing. Someone had obviously been following Ian for months. There were photos of him all over town. There were older ones of Ian and Mickey together before they broke up. There were ones of Ian with his little sister and brothers at the grocery store. There were shots of Ian smoking with Brad on the Gallagher's front stoop. But the majority of the photos were Ian alone: Ian leaving his job at the convenience store late at night, Ian jogging in the early hours of the morning alone in the dark city. Mickey felt a shiver run through him. "What the fuck is this?"

"There's more." Mandy pulled a stack of papers from under the photos. Mickey studied it and found it was a log of Ian's every move.

Mickey put a hand to his mouth. "Jesus."

Iggy looked uncomfortable. "Dad hates Gallagher. Blames him for everything - him being in jail again, you being gay, even still believes he messed with Mandy. He wants revenge but also thinks that if Gallagher's out of the picture, you'll go back to being who you used to be. So he's had this guy, some former prison buddy, trailing him for months."

Mickey looked at Iggy suspiciously. "Why'd he tell you?"

Iggy shrugged. "Thinks I'm gonna help him."

"Help him with what?"

"Making Gallagher disappear, I guess. Didn't tell me details. Said he'd tell me more details later."

"Are you gonna help him?" Mickey's entire body was tense.

"I don't care if you're gay, Mick. You can fuck who you want. But betraying Dad - that's a big fuckin deal. This Gallagher kid - I don't give a shit about him either way. But if he matters to you . . . ." Iggy looked away uncomfortably and Mickey felt his face grow hot. He had never discussed his sexuality or his relationship with Ian with his brothers before. "Does he . . . matter to you, I mean? I need to know, Mick, cause I'm not putting my neck on the line for just some piece of ass you fuck."

Mickey's heart was beating out of his chest. He had never been put on the spot so intensely before. Mandy was looking at him with desperation. Mickey took a deep breath. "Yeah, he fuckin matters to me."

 

Ian felt like shit but he was determined to turn things around. He was pretty sure he could convince Mickey to take him back. If he did, and Ian got another chance with Mickey, he sure as hell wasn't going to fuck it up this time.

Ian had fucked everything up so badly. And Mickey had seen him at his lowest, drunk and vomiting in a crack house. Other guys would run. But Mickey had told Ian he loved him and that was a big deal for Mickey.

Ian stepped out of the shower and studied his reflection. He hadn't been taking care of himself and it showed. He was skinnier than ever and he had lost a lot of his muscles. He was still toned because he enjoyed running every morning but he hadn't been doing much lifting. Ian felt insecurity envelop him and he hoped Mickey would still find him attractive. He decided that he would start doing better. He would get back the body that Mickey had been so drawn to.

As Ian pulled on a pair of jeans and tee shirt, he thought about Mickey and how the older boy had really grown up in the time Ian was away. Mickey was always clean now and God did he smell good. Mickey dressed better and actually styled his hair. But it was more than that. Mickey had matured into a man and he now possessed the confidence that went along with that. And now Mickey was out.

Ian worried that other men would start noticing Mickey and seeing what Ian had seen all along. How would Mickey react? Would he be tempted? Ian had seen Mickey with women but he couldn't picture Mickey with any other guy. Just the thought of it made Ian want to crawl out of his own skin.

Ian planned to go to Mickey's house that night. It had been far too long and Ian needed to fuck him, to claim him. And Ian would stay over, if Mickey let him, and this time, Ian would never leave.

 

Things were still quiet and tense at the Milkovich house but the folder was now closed. The siblings were smoking cigarette after cigarette, all filled with fear and apprehension. 

For Iggy, the thought of betraying his father was terrifying but he had been raised to be loyal to his siblings and, if he had to make a choice, he would rather hurt his father than his brother. After all, his father was cruel while Mickey had always been good to him. 

Iggy had seen quite a bit of Gallagher in the weeks that he had been living with them after Mickey first came out. Iggy couldn't understand a guy finding another guy attractive but, at the same time, he could never understand Mickey's attraction to the fat chicks he used to bang either. He was also confused because he could have sworn Gallagher used to date Mandy. Maybe the kid swung both ways. The bottom line was that there was definitely something different about Mickey when it came to Gallagher. Mickey had never cared about anything but money before. Didn't even seem to care about his wife or baby. Yet Mickey seemed so tense in the weeks that Gallagher was sick in his room. And the protective look on his face that Mickey would get if any of them even mentioned the kid was something Iggy had never seen before.

"So we just wait?" Mandy said, tapping her nails nervously on the table.

"Yeah. We wait and let Dad think he can trust me, that I'm in on it. Once he tells me his plan, we'll come up with something." Iggy turned to Mickey. "You can't say anything to him."

"I have to warn him."

"You can't do that. He'll act different even if he tries not to. He'll be looking over his shoulder all the time. Dad will know and then we're all fucked."

Mickey looked at Mandy and she nodded in agreement. "Fuck." Mickey muttered. He had done some terrible things to Ian over the years but he had never lied to him. How would he pull off being around him all the time while keeping this huge secret? But he supposed Iggy was right. So Mickey would lie to Ian. Because Mickey would do anything to protect him. He looked at his siblings. "Okay."

 

Ian was alone in the house. All his siblings were either at school or work. He had spent the day cleaning up the house. He felt guilty about keeping Fiona and Lip up half the night looking for him so he figured cleaning up was the least he could do. He put the last of his siblings' clean, folded laundry back in the appropriate drawers and pulled out a duffel bag. Was it presumptuous to show up at Mickey's with a big duffel full of his shit? Would it piss Mickey off or worse, scare him off? Ian took a deep breath and began putting all his clean, neatly folded clothes inside. He would just have to take the risk of being rejected. Mickey was worth it.

Ian finished packing and hauled the bag over his shoulder before heading downstairs. When he had been packing, he had noticed several pairs of Mickey's underwear and tee shirts mixed in with his own clothes. This made Ian smile and hitched his confidence. They were already so connected. There was no way Mickey would turn him away. Ian grabbed his hoodie off the living room couch and opened the front door to find Brad standing on the other side.

"What the fuck do you want?"

"Can I come in?"

"No." Ian stood with his arms crossed over his chest. Any guilt he had felt about Brad was gone after the way Brad had treated him the morning before. He just wanted the guy to leave. He didn't want to risk Mickey seeing them together and getting the wrong idea.

"You didn't return any of my texts."

"I don't know what texts you're talking about. I told you that I'm done with you. I need you to go away."

Brad's eyes scanned Ian's body, taking in the duffel at his side. "Where are you going?"

"That's none of your business."

Brad's eyes flashed with anger. "Back to that fuck from the bar. That . . . Mickey?"

Ian was trying to stay calm but hearing Brad say Mickey's name made him want to punch the guy. Instead, he backed up and tried to slam the door shut but Brad blocked it with his shoulder and pushed his way inside, slamming the door behind him. "What the fuck?!"

"I know about him, you know."

"Get out of my house."

"I know he's a fucking pimp."

"I said get out!"

Brad got right in Ian's face. "I got an uncle who's a cop. Did you know that?"

Ian had been about to swing at him and froze.

"Mickey's not a kid anymore, Ian. It wouldn't be juvie this time. It would be real prison. And everyone knows he's gay. How long do you think he'd last in there before somebody made him his bitch?"

Ian was scared. He felt his heart beating wildly. It didn't help that he was overdue for his meds. He fought to stay calm. "What do you want?"

Brad's eyes travelled over Ian's body as the smallest hint of a grin appeared on his lips. "I want to keep fucking you."

Ian shook his head. "No way."

Brad shrugged. "Alright. I guess I'll be giving my uncle a call today. That friend of yours that owns the bar, I'll mention him too. Maybe they can be cell mates."

Ian was frozen. Suddenly, he felt his phone vibrate. Pulling it out of his pocket, there was a text from Mickey:

"How you feeling? You coming over soon?"

Ian felt tears stinging his eyes. He couldn't let Brad hurt Mickey. Mickey wouldn't be safe in prison - especially with Terry there. Ian slid his phone back in his pocket and looked up at Brad. He shivered at the boy's evil smirk. Fucking Brad meant betraying Mickey but at least Mickey would be safe. "Okay."

Brad's lips went into a full grin then. He took a step closer to Ian and grabbed his chin roughly. Ian cringed at his touch. "And from now on, you're going to kiss me too." Brad shoved his tongue in Ian's mouth and Ian fought not to gag as the other boy kissed him violently before pushing him face down on the couch.

 

Mickey opened the door to find Ian standing on the other side with a bag thrown over his shoulder. Mickey was wearing sweat pants and a tank top and Ian was overwhelmed with how sexy he looked. Mickey smiled, taking the bag from him and leading him inside. Ian closed the door behind them. The house was quiet. They were alone in the living room. "Planning to stay for a while?"

Ian looked right into Mickey's eyes. "Yeah, like forever, if that's alright with you."

Mickey's eyebrows shot up. Then he leaned in, kissing Ian gently. Ian responded and the kiss grew increasingly passionate as their hands found each other's bodies. They fumbled with each other's clothes as they made their way, still kissing, to Mickey's room. They collapsed onto the bed, already half naked, Mickey on top of Ian.

Suddenly, Mickey broke the kiss, looking down at Ian. "You okay? You seem a little . . . distracted."

Ian didn't answer, pulling Mickey back down into a deep kiss instead. They fucked several times throughout the night. Whenever one of them woke up, he reached for the other one. They took comfort in each other's bodies as they each struggled to keep the secret they were keeping out of their minds.


	9. Sneaking Around

The next couple weeks were both incredibly happy and scary for Mickey. Being back together with Ian was amazing. This was the first time they were a real, out couple with Ian stable on his meds. Every night, as he lay beside him and every morning waking up to that beautiful smiling face, Mickey could hardly believe this was real. After years of feeling like he had to deny his feelings and hide any affection he felt for the redhead, it felt surreal to be able to show his feelings for Ian whenever he wanted.

It was these little moments that Mickey appreciated most. Grabbing Ian as he was walking past with his cereal in the morning and pulling him into a kiss. Rubbing Ian's shoulders gently as he walked past Ian at the dinner table. Keeping an arm around Ian as they watched tv together on the couch. Even going so far as to rest a hand on Ian's thigh as they hung out with Mandy on the couch, eating pizza and watching movies. It was as if because Mickey had been denied these touches for so many years, once he started, he couldn't get enough.

Ian was easy to love. He was so kind to everyone, even Svetlana and her girlfriend, despite the fact that they called him Orange Boy and often mocked him. But Mickey sensed that even his wife was warming to the kid as she watched Ian with their son. It was obvious to everyone in the house that Ian had a knack for caring for an infant. Everyone turned to Ian for help when the baby was fussy. The little bundle always looked so cozy and content in Ian's arms and it appeared so effortless for Ian. When Ian would return home after being at work or visiting with his family, the little guy's entire face would light up at the sight of him as he kicked his legs excitedly. Ian would laugh and pick him up, talking to him sweetly and kissing his fuzzy head. He would often ease the baby onto his hip, continuing to hold him as he went about the house, eating a snack or talking to Mickey or doing whatever else he did.

But things weren't all good. Mickey was constantly worried about Ian's safety. He didn't like to ever let him out of his sight but, of course, this was impossible. After all, Ian went to school during the day and it's not like Mickey could hang out at a high school without attracting negative attention.

Some days, Ian went directly from school to his job at the Kash N Grab. On those days, Mickey would text Ian every hour and always walked Ian home. He didn't want Ian alone at night. It was only a few blocks but Mickey would keep an arm protectively around Ian, a gun secretly stashed in his pants that even Ian didn't know about. Since learning of Terry's vendetta against Ian, Mickey had begun carrying a gun with him at almost all times. He hated feeling paranoid but he knew that his father could have someone try to grab Ian at any time and it terrified him.

But some days there were chunks of time when Ian didn't answer his phone and Mickey didn't know where he was and, even though it was never more than an hour or so, Mickey would go crazy with fear until he heard from Ian.

About two weeks after Ian moved back in, they had their first fight. Mickey had been at work at the bar all day. Ian had texted him a few minutes before the final bell that he was headed straight home from school to study for an exam. Yet, when Mickey called the house forty-five minutes later, there was no answer. So Mickey texted:

"Where the hell are you?"

When he received no reply, Mickey was filled with anxiety. As the minutes clicked by, the anxiety turned into full on panic. He left the Alibi without even a goodbye to Kevin or anyone else and rushed home. He had been hoping that maybe he would find Ian asleep in his bed, exhausted from his early morning runs and all the hours he was putting in at work. But the house was empty. Mickey removed his phone from his jeans with shaking hands. He was about to call Iggy when the front door opened and Ian was suddenly in front of him.

Mickey had to fight the urge to punch him. He would never let anyone hurt Ian, even himself, but he really wanted to at that moment. "Where the hell have you been?"

Ian was startled by the anger in Mickey's voice. "Jesus, Mick. I went to the library to study."

Mickey's arms were folded across his chest. "You went to the fucking library?"

Ian walked past Mickey, put his backpack on the table and grabbed a soda from the fridge. "Yeah. What's the big deal?"

"Why didn't you answer your phone?"

Ian's features took on a defensive expression and there was an edge to his voice. "I guess I didn't feel like it." The truth was that Ian had just endured an hour of unwanted sex with Brad and now all he wanted to do was take a shower and start studying. Mickey was harassing him and it was starting to piss him off. "What is it, Mick, you don't trust me?"

Mickey could see that Ian was getting upset so he softened his tone. "It's not that I don't trust you. I was worried." But his words only seemed to make Ian angrier.

"You're my boyfriend not my fucking father. You need to back off a little. I'll answer my phone when I feel like it. And, by the way, I don't need to report my location to you every minute. I'm bipolar not a fucking child." Mickey flinched at the harshness of his words and Ian would normally have felt regretful for having wounded him but that day Ian felt so much anger that it felt good to hurt Mickey.

Ian went into the bathroom and stepped into the shower. The situation with Brad was out of control. The guy was texting him constantly. And when Ian refused his requests, Brad immediately turned to threats. As he scrubbed Brad out of his skin, Ian realized he needed help. He thought about going to Lip but thought he would just find a way to blame Mickey. He decided on Mandy. They weren't as close because of Kenyatta but he could trust her and Mandy was resourceful. Together, they'd find a solution.

Ian stepped out of the shower and dried himself off. Suddenly, he realized that he left his phone in his bag and panicked. If Mickey saw one of Brad's texts he was screwed. He rushed out of the bathroom, wearing only a towel, and smacked right into Mickey, who clearly had been waiting right outside the door. Ian tried to walk around the other boy but Mickey grabbed him by the waist.

"Hey, I'm sorry. You're right. Ever since the night you disappeared, I just worry about you. But I can't keep you on a leash like that. I'll back off."

Ian nodded. "Thanks."

Mickey looked down at Ian's practically naked body and grinned before pulling him, by his hips, into their room. Somewhere along the way, Ian lost the towel and so he was completely naked in front of his boyfriend. "Let me make it up to you." He said and pushed Ian onto the bed as he dropped to his knees in front of him.

Mickey had become an expert at blowing Ian and as he went at it, Ian began to relax. The situation with Brad and all the lying and sneaking around that went with it had Ian wound tight and Ian knew it wasn't good for his mental state. So he let himself enjoy the blow job as he forced all thoughts that weren't how much he loved Mickey out of his mind.

When Mickey was finished, he slid into Ian's arms, smiling at him adoringly. Mickey was always doing that lately - looking at Ian with so much love, wearing his heart on his sleeve like he had never done before. Ian felt unworthy, especially now that he was constantly lying to Mickey. His eyes grew damp and Mickey's expression changed to one of concern. "Fuck, Ian. I didn't mean to upset you so much. I'm so fucking sorry. I'm an asshole."

"No, I'm the asshole. I know I hurt you before with the stuff I said. I don't deserve you, Mick."

"Don't say that. That's bullshit." And then Mickey grinned. "Whatever. We don't need to argue about this. Let's just agree that we're both terrible and that's why we're fucking perfect for each other."

Ian couldn't help but smile. Mickey leaned down and kissed him again. Then, pulling away, Mickey tilted his head to one side, the adoring gaze back on his features. "Don't worry, tough guy, we'll figure all this shit out. We're gonna be fine."

Ian nodded, wanting more than anything to believe that Mickey was right.

 

Later that night, Ian waited for Mickey to be distracted and, as soon as he stepped into the shower, Ian grabbed Mandy by the hand and pulled her down the hall into her bedroom. As soon as they were in the room with the door shut, Mandy snatched her hand away. At that moment, Ian realized just how much they had grown apart and he was filled with sadness. "Ian, what the fuck?"

Ian put a finger to his lips to indicate that she should be quiet before sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. He motioned for Mandy to sit beside him but she hesitated. "Need to talk to you, Mands."

"Oh yeah? We friends again? You know, you have a lot of nerve criticizing my relationship while you play house with douchebag over there." Mandy jerked a thumb in the direction of the bathroom where they could hear the water running from Mickey's shower.

Ian sighed. "You're right and I'm sorry. I care about you and I'll support you no matter who you choose to be with."

Mandy looked at Ian. He looked so sincere and sweet sitting there. With a sigh, she sat down and allowed Ian to wrap his long arms around her. She sank into his warm chest, her face in the crook of his neck. Though she would never admit it to anyone, Mandy was jealous of Mickey. Bipolar or not, Ian was such a good person. And Ian would do anything for the people he cared about, including Mandy. But the way Ian looked at Mickey was totally different. It was obvious to Mandy how strong Ian's feelings were for her brother. Ian's feelings for Mandy paled in comparison. Ian would never hurt Mickey the way Kenyatta hurt her. What had Mickey done to deserve someone like Ian? She and Mickey were the same. They were nowhere near good enough for Ian. Mandy loved her brother but lately she found it difficult to not feel cheated. Of course, had things worked out with Lip, everything would be different. But things hadn't worked out with Lip. That relationship had turned to shit, just like everything else in her life. Meanwhile, Mickey had made so many mistakes with Ian, had treated him terribly at times, and yet, Ian was with him, completely devoted and in love. It was so unfair.

Ian was running his hand through Mandy's hair anxiously. She sat up and his hand fell away. "So what's going on?"

Ian shifted nervously. "If I tell you something, you cannot tell Mickey."

She shrugged. "Okay."

"I mean it, Mandy."

"What makes you think I'd go running to that asshole? You're my friend, not him."

Ian smiled sadly. "I have a problem. A big problem and I need your help."

"Something involving Mickey?"

"Sort of. Remember Brad?"

"Douchebag lab partner?"

"That's the one. He's blackmailing me. Has been for a couple weeks."

Mandy's eyebrows shot up and it made Ian smile because it reminded him so much of Mickey. "Blackmailing you how?"

Ian hesitated, glancing in the direction of the bathroom where the sound of running water had ceased. "He's making me have sex with him."

Mandy looked horrified. "Ian! Are you serious? If he's threatening you, why don't you tell Mickey? He'll go right over there and kick his ass! Mickey will totally protect you. That's one of the few advantages to having a thug for a boyfriend."

"Jesus, Mandy, lower your voice!" Ian's eyes looked panicked. Mandy reached over and put a reassuring hand on top of Ian's. "Brad knows about the rub n tug. He knows Mickey sometimes deals drugs. He has some cop uncle he's threatening to tell if I don't keep fucking him. If I tell Mickey, he'll be powerless to do anything about it. Or worse, he'll go after him and end up in jail. As much as I want to tell him, it would just make shit worse."

Mandy bit her lip, another gesture reminiscent of her older brother. "Mickey would want to know if someone's hurting you, Ian. If he finds out I knew and didn't tell him, he'll . . . well, I don't know exactly what he'll do but he'll be mad as hell." And then Mandy remembered the major secret that Mickey was keeping from Ian and she was suddenly concerned for these boys. As jealous as she was of their relationship, she loved them both and didn't want to see either hurt. All the secrets and lying couldn't be good for their relationship.

Mandy was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of protectiveness toward both boys. "We need to kill Brad."

"Mandy! Are you out of your mind?"

Mandy crawled closer to Ian, lowering her voice to a whisper. "We'll borrow my dad's car. You'll arrange to meet up with him and then we'll run the fucker down."

Ian looked horrified, his eyes wide. "Mandy, no. I could never do that."

"Oh yeah? Not even to protect Mickey?" Ian was silent so she continued. "You can't keep fucking him, Ian. First, it's totally gross and second, Mickey will eventually find out. You know what a jealous fucker he is. How do you think he'll react when he finds out you've been fucking someone else and lying about it? You'll lose him, Ian. We need to take care of this now."

Ian's face was suddenly red and his entire body tense. "I can't do it, Mandy, I just can't do that. Fuck. I have no options, Mands. What the fuck am I gonna do?"

Mandy had never seen Ian like that. She quickly put her arms around him. She spoke softly while rubbing his back soothingly. "It's okay."

Ian's heart was racing. "I think I'm having a fucking heart attack." Ian looked panicked.

"No, just a panic attack." Mandy pushed Ian's head into her chest and held onto him tight. The stress of the situation with Brad was clearly taking a huge toll on him. Mandy was worried because Ian was barely stable to begin with. "Calm down. We'll find another way. I promise." 

Just then, Ian's phone vibrated in his pocket signaling a message. Ian pulled it out and his face fell when he saw the screen. "Fuck!"

"Brad?"

Ian nodded. I just fucking saw him after school. He's getting more and more aggressive."

Mandy was worried. "Ian, this can't continue."

Ian stood up, shaking his head. "I gotta go over there." And then panic took over his features. "What the hell am I gonna tell Mickey? Mandy, you gotta cover for me."

Mandy stood up beside him. "What am I supposed to tell him?"

"Let's sneak out. I'll go to Brad's. You can go to Kenyatta's for a while. We'll tell Mickey we went to a movie together. I'll text you when I'm headed home so we can meet up and walk in together."

Mandy was shaking her head slowly. "Ian, this is a bad idea. Mickey doesn't even like you to go out at night without him. He's gonna be furious."

Ian ran a shaky hand through his hair. "I'll figure something out. I just need a little more time."

Mandy put a hand on Ian's shoulder. "I'll cover for you this one time but only if you promise to consider my plan for getting rid of Brad permanently."

"Mandy, you're talking about murdering someone."

"No, I'm talking about doing whatever it takes to protect you and Mickey. Wouldn't you do anything to keep Mickey out of jail?"

Ian looked into her eyes and a few seconds passed before he nodded slowly. "Okay. I'll consider it." 

They could hear Mickey and Svetlana arguing quietly in the living room so the front door was not an option. "So how are we doing this?"

Ian looked around the tiny room. "Window?" And within seconds they were two figures making their way in opposite directions through the dark night.


	10. Truth

Mickey had just resolved an argument with Svetlana over who would watch the baby the next day when he received the text from Mandy. She and Ian had snuck out of the house and headed to a comic book movie at the second run theater a few blocks away. Mickey's initial reaction was anger that they had deliberately snuck out because they knew he wouldn't want them to go. But as the minutes passed with Mickey seated on the couch re-reading Mandy's text, he started to relax.

According to the text, they were already at the theater, which meant Ian had made it there safely. Mickey thought it was highly doubtful that Ian would be attacked in the actual movie theater. Mickey decided that he would be waiting for them when the show got out to walk them home. In the meantime, he would try to relax, fairly confident that Ian was safe.

As he thought about it, the image of the two crawling out the window put a grin on Mickey's face. They were two idiots but Mickey loved them. He pictured them laughing as they squeezed their skinny bodies through the ridiculously small window. He hoped they were having fun. Ian had seemed far too stressed out and serious the past couple weeks. Maybe a night out with Mandy would be just what he needed.

Mickey kicked off his shoes and picked up the remote control off the coffee table. Svetlana and her girlfriend were holed up in their room with the baby (who Mickey had reluctantly agreed to take care of the next day). Iggy was out and Joey was in his room most likely watching porn online. Mickey took a sip of his beer and started flipping through channels for something interesting to watch. It was then that Iggy burst through the door.

"I need to talk to you, Mickey. We got a big problem."

Mickey was annoyed. Couldn't he just have one relaxing night without someone bothering him with their problems? Mickey didn't bother taking his eyes off the television when he responded. "What kind of fucking problem?"

Iggy sat on the other couch. "Dad's out."

Mickey sat up, his entire body tensing instantly. His eyes met his brother's. "How?"

"Overcrowding or some shit. I didn't even know until his probation officer called me. I guess he got out a couple days ago. So I called his cell phone and he basically told me to fuck off. Said now that he's out, he doesn't need any help from his dumb ass sons. His words. Said he can take care of Gallagher on his own."

Mickey felt the beginnings of a headache forming. He took a deep breath, reminded himself that he had to stay calm. He chugged the rest of his beer as he realized his next step. He had to tell Ian what was going on. He'd tell Ian and then he'd confront his father. Until Terry backed down, he wouldn't let Ian leave his side. He went to the kitchen and retrieved a couple aspirin before popping open another beer to wash down the pills. Mickey was calm again. He could handle this. He was confident that he could protect Ian. He had a plan.

 

Ninety minutes later, Mickey stood smoking a cigarette outside the movie theater. He had called and found out the exact time the movie got out. He shivered and zipped up his hoodie even though it wasn't a particularly chilly night. Mickey kept looking around nervously, expecting his father to come charging at him at any moment. Mickey reminded himself of the gun in the waistband of his jeans and willed himself to stay calm.

Suddenly, the front doors opened and a small crowd was rushing out. Mickey felt relief. Finally. He'd make them walk fast, get Ian home within minutes. And then he'd tell him everything he'd been keeping from him. Mickey was mildly concerned that Ian might be angry with him for keeping such a big secret but Mickey knew it would be a huge weight off his shoulders to finally tell him. He hated lying to his boyfriend. He was ready to come clean.

Mickey was jolted from his thoughts by the sight of his sister. But the guy with his arm around her was definitely not his pale, freckled boyfriend. Mickey quickly approached Mandy and Kenyatta, grabbing Mandy roughly by the arm and pulling her away from the flow of the crowd, ignoring Kenyatta's disapproving glare. "Where the fuck is Ian?" Mickey continued to scan the crowd as he spoke, hoping the guy was just running late after using the bathroom.

But then the last of the crowd had exited and there was still no sign of the redhead. Mickey looked back at his sister, repeating the question while shaking her arm roughly where he was still holding her by the elbow. "Mandy, where the fuck is Ian?"

Mandy's eyes were huge. Suddenly, Kenyatta shoved Mickey. "Get the hell off of her, man. Your boyfriend or whatever the fuck he is ain't here."

Mickey's eyes moved from Kenyatta back to Mandy. He was no longer touching her but their eyes were locked in an intense stare. Finally, she spoke. "Mick, I can't. I promised him I wouldn't tell you."

Mickey tried to keep his voice calm and steady though he was on the verge of panic. "Mandy, Dad is out of jail. I need to know where Ian is. You know why."

Tears began welling in her eyes but she shook her head, swiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I just can't. I promised him."

Mickey's heart sank at that moment because he knew Ian was keeping something from him and he could tell from Mandy's face that it was bad. It occurred to Mickey that Ian could be cheating on him and tears sprang to his eyes. Mickey had felt so close to Ian the past couple weeks. He had been so sure his boyfriend felt the same way. The idea that Ian might have been deceiving him the entire time was like a punch to his gut, leaving him breathless and dizzy. But he had to stay calm. The important thing now was to find him. He'd deal with the rest later, once he knew Ian was safe. "Mandy, whatever he's doing or has done, none of it will matter if he's dead."

Kenyatta was growing impatient. "Just tell him where his boy is so we can get the hell outta here. I'm fucking tired."

Mandy's eyes never left Mickey's. Finally, biting her lip, she nodded. "He's with Brad."

Mickey's eyebrows shot up as he turned away from Mandy, his hands in fists. "Are you fucking kidding me? He's cheating on me with that pussy?" And then, remembering the texts where Brad apologized for slamming Ian's head against a wall and spitting in his face, Mickey shook his head in disbelief. "Why the fuck would he do that?" He said, more to himself than to Mandy.

Mandy, no longer crying, grabbed Mickey by the arm. "It's not like that."

Mickey pulled his arm away roughly. "Bullshit."

"I'm telling you that it's not like that." Mandy's voice was so strong and sure that Mickey looked at her. "He and Brad have been fucking but it's not Ian's fault. He's been blackmailing him."

Mickey rolled his eyes. "That what he told you? I wasn't born fucking yesterday."

"It's the truth. He has some uncle who's a cop and he threatened to get you thrown in jail for all the illegal shit you do if Ian didn't keep fucking him."

Mickey didn't know what to believe at that moment. "Look, it doesn't matter right now. We're wasting time. Where is he right now?"

"At Brad's house."

Mickey started walking away quickly.

Mandy struggled to catch up. "Where are you going?"

"Home. I'm getting Iggy and Joey and then I'm going over there. Whatever's going on with Brad and Ian ends tonight."

 

Ian descended the front steps of Brad's house, pulling a hood over his head with shaky hands. He was in a bad place mentally and he knew it. Ian felt trapped in a way he never had before. Even as he had lain under Brad's weight, cringing against the other boy's movements, he knew he couldn't carry out Mandy's plan. Ian could never murder another human being.

Ian knew he had to tell Mickey what was going on. But he was terrified what Mickey's reaction would be. There was definitely a strong possibility that Mickey would end things between them. After all, Ian had been lying to him and fucking someone else for weeks. But what Ian feared most was that Mickey would kill Brad and end up in jail for the rest of his life. Ian couldn't stand the thought of Mickey going to jail because of him. And the thought of life without Mickey was unbearable to Ian.

Ian had been depressed before but that night he felt a new level of despair. Dark thoughts had been swirling around his mind, thoughts he had never experienced before. He thought about all the guns stored in Mickey's top drawer. Ian knew how to use a gun. It would be so easy to put the gun in his mouth . . . Ian shook his head violently, desperate to get the image out of his mind. He knew killing himself was not the answer. Yet images of him killing himself in various ways kept playing in his mind. 

Ian stood in front of the Milkovich house and knew he couldn't go inside. His phone had been off for hours and Mickey and Mandy were both probably looking for him at this point. Despite the guilt he felt, he turned in the opposite direction. He'd go to The Alibi, he decided. A couple drinks would calm him down, clear the ugly images from his mind, give him the courage to talk to Mickey. He wasn't supposed to drink on his medication, so he'd stay away from the hard stuff. But a couple beers would do him good.

 

Mickey and his brothers made it to Brad's front door quickly. Mickey didn't bother to explain what was going on. His brothers knew what it meant when Mickey brought them to someone's house late at night. Mickey used his shoulder to force his way in, not even bothering to knock.

Brad had been sitting at the kitchen table eating a late dinner when Mickey barged in, his brothers close behind. Mickey had him up against the wall by his throat within seconds. Brad's eyes were huge as he struggled to breath against the pressure of Mickey's hands. "What did I tell you was gonna happen if you messed with Ian again?" Not bothering to wait for an answer, Mickey released his grip on the other boy's throat and punched him hard in the stomach. Brad was left curled on the floor, holding his stomach and gasping for air as Mickey looked around, checking all the rooms for any sign of Ian. He called his name repeatedly but received no answer.

Finally, Brad spoke up from where he lay on the floor, still struggling to catch his breath. "He's not here. He was but he left."

Mickey got down on his knees and pulled Brad to him by his collar so that their faces were close. "You threatened him? Said you'd get me thrown in jail if he didn't do what you wanted?"  
The corners of Brad's mouth turned up revealing the tiniest grin and Mickey knew what Mandy told him was true. He pulled Brad's face even closer to his. "I'm not afraid of you, asshole. Go ahead and tell your cop buddy anything you want. I promise you you'll be dead before the handcuffs touch my wrists."

Mickey's brothers had been searching the house, trashing things as they went along. They re-entered the kitchen just as Mickey stepped away from Brad. Iggy shrugged. "We looked in every room. Gallagher isn't here."

Mickey nodded then turned to Brad. "You know where he went?"

Brad sat up, still clutching his stomach. "You think I'd tell you if I did?"

Mickey took out his phone and clicked on Ian's number but Ian's phone was still turned off. He turned at the sound of Brad's voice.

The injured boy had managed to get back on his feet. He was smirking at Mickey. "It was a great couple weeks while it lasted. But I don't have to tell you what a great fuck Ian is."

Mickey turned to his brothers. "I'm going to find Gallagher." He gestured toward Brad. "Beat him to within an inch of his life."

 

Ian had lost track of how many beers he consumed after the first two. He hadn't eaten for hours and the alcohol hit him hard. He vaguely remembered that he was overdue for his pills. He looked at his watch and was shocked to see it was past midnight. "Fuck." Ian hadn't realized how late it was. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and turned it on. He ignored the missed messages and texts and called Mickey who answered on the first ring.

"Ian, thank god. Where the fuck are you?"

"The Alibi."

"Jesus, the one place I didn't look. Are you okay?"

"Mick, I'm not feeling good."

"Are you drunk? You sound drunk."

"I am drunk and I'm having really dark thoughts, Mick. I can't stop them. It's freaking me out."

"Put Kev on the phone."

"Not here. It's some new bartender he hired so he could spend more time with the twins."

"Fuck."

"I have to tell you something."

"If it's about Brad, I already know. I took care of it. You don't need to worry about that fucker anymore."

"I'm sorry I lied to you." Ian's voice broke. "Mick, are we still together?"

"Jesus Christ, Ian. Of course we are. Just fucking hold it together until I get there."

"I forgot to take my pills."

"I have your pills. Don't go anywhere. I'm gonna come get you. I went all the way to fucking boys town looking for your ass so it's gonna take me a while to get there."

"Sorry."

"Stop saying sorry. Just stop drinking and fucking wait for me. Do not go anywhere. I'll be there soon."

"Okay." Ian hung up the phone and drained his beer. Suddenly, he was startled by a voice beside him.

"Sounds like you're having a rough night. Buy you another?"

Assuming it was some old perv, he turned to tell the guy to fuck off and froze when he saw Terry Milkovich grinning at him.


	11. Terry

Mickey hung up the phone feeling tremendous relief at having finally heard Ian's voice after so many hours of silence. He didn't sound good but that was okay. Mickey could deal with whatever emotional shit Ian was going through as long as he was physically okay. Mickey was also relieved that Ian was at The Alibi rather than somewhere in boys town where he was more likely to be preyed upon by some old perv.

Mickey left The Fairy Tale and lit a cigarette as he headed down the street in the direction of the train. He considered checking in with Iggy to see how Brad's beat down had gone but decided to wait until after he had Ian safely beside him. Just thinking about Brad made Mickey's blood boil. He had really wanted to do the beating himself after what he did to Ian but he just couldn't take the time away from searching for his boyfriend. 

Sitting on the train afforded Mickey the time to actually think about what Ian had been through the past couple weeks. It physically pained Mickey to think of Ian suffering like that and it tore him apart that he had been oblivious and therefore done nothing to protect him. Mickey leaned down, rubbing his own temples, continuing to fight his headache from that morning. Now Ian was in danger from Terry and Mickey was more determined than ever to protect him.

Being a boyfriend and having a boyfriend were still so new to Mickey. His whole life, he had pretty much just looked out for himself. The way he felt about Ian terrified him. Mickey had never known what it felt like to be in love. But Mickey knew he loved Ian because the idea of Ian hurting in any way hurt Mickey and the idea of losing Ian was unbearable to him.

Mickey told himself he would have been better off never knowing Ian. That life had been so much easier with only himself to care about. But then Mickey remembered the way Ian smiled at him like Mickey was the greatest thing Ian had ever seen. And his hands tingled at thoughts of how Ian's body felt beneath Mickey's fingers, how his mouth felt against Mickey's and he had no regrets. Mickey leaned his head back with a sigh, knowing that Ian was the best thing in his life and wishing the damn train would move faster.

 

The moment Ian realized Terry Milkovich was sitting beside him, he instantly regretted all the drinks he had consumed. Ian knew Terry was dangerous and Ian's brain along with the rest of his body was definitely not functioning at full capacity. Ian could barely focus on the intimidating man because the room was starting to spin. Ian lost his balance, nearly falling off his stool and Terry reached out, catching his arms in his strong hands and steadying Ian back in his seat. Ian shuddered at his touch.

The older man chuckled. "Had a little too much to drink there." Ian yanked his arms out of Terry's grip, nearly falling backwards off the stool and Mickey's father caught him once again. "Easy there. I'm just trying to keep you from falling on your ass."

Ian tried hard to speak clearly and was disappointed by how slurred his words sounded. "Mickey's coming to get me."

Terry nodded. "I heard."

"He wouldn't want me talking to you."

"Why not?" Ian gave him a knowing look and the old man chuckled once again. "I've made some mistakes. Can I buy you a shot?"

Ian shook his head. "Had too much already. Just waiting for Mickey to take me home."

Terry raised an eyebrow. "Home?"

"Wherever Mickey is is home to me." Ian didn't know why he said that. Those were dangerous words. The alcohol had left him loose and uncensored, words flowing out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying. Ian thought briefly of calling Lip. Maybe Lip could come get him right away. The Gallagher house was only blocks away. But then Ian remembered that Lip was staying in his dorm room that night. There was no way Ian could make it anywhere by himself. He was stuck there with Terry until Mickey arrived.

Terry was studying Ian intensely and Ian wondered if he was trying to figure out what his son saw in him. But he couldn't be sure because the old man's expression was unreadable. "Mickey was always my favorite. My other sons are loyal but idiots. Mickey was more rebellious but smart. I care about my kids. I have my demons, sure. Alcohol can turn a good man violent. You know that from your own father. I bet he's put a few bruises on you. Am I right?"

"Who says my father is a good man?"

Terry nodded. "My father drank heavily, beat me mercilessly. We do what we know, Gallagher." Terry held out his glass in a cheers gesture before draining the glass. "He also taught me that fags deserve to die."

Ian shivered at his words. "Yeah well, Frank taught me a lot of shit that isn't true."

"No doubt." Terry leaned his face close to Ian, hand on his shoulder. "I fucked up. But I've had a lot of time to think in prison. I want to make things right with Mickey."

Ian attempted to jerk his shoulder away but the old man's grip was strong. "Bullshit."

Terry raised his eyebrows. "I mean it. I can even deal with you hanging around as long as you two don't, you know, flaunt it too much."

Ian rolled his eyes. "How tolerant of you."

"Men need their fathers, Gallagher. No matter how flawed."

Ian was going to argue but then remembered how Mickey had defended his father the morning of the wedding. And he thought about Frank and all the times he had stolen from him and beat him up. And yet, a part of him still yearned for Frank's love and approval.

Terry's hand was still gripping Ian's shoulder tightly and the combination of Terry's touch and his intense stare was causing Ian to feel increasingly claustrophobic. At the same time, his final beer was only now hitting him. His mind was cloudy and he felt suddenly sick to his stomach. Ian clumsily got down from his stool, pushing Terry's hand off his shoulder and stumbling outside, his hand clutching his stomach. He made it just steps outside the door before he was vomiting violently in the alley next to the bar. Ian's longing for Mickey at that moment was so intense it brought tears to his eyes. And then, as he bent forward retching, a pair of boots appeared beside him. He looked up, relieved. "Mick."

But it was Terry's face above him. Ian's heart sank as he leaned against a filthy brick wall. The combination of medication (even though he had missed a dose) and alcohol had hit him hard. He felt so sick. He just wanted to go home. Terry rattled a set of keys in front of him. "I borrowed my buddy's truck tonight. I'll drive you home. Wherever you want to go."

Ian shook his head, shivering. "No. Get away from me." Terry grabbed his arm and Ian wrenched his body away. But the movement took all his remaining strength and he found himself laying down, his cheek pressed against the cold concrete sidewalk. Ian felt himself beginning to pass out and he fought to stay concious. As Terry began dragging his limp body into the back seat of the truck, it occurred to Ian that Terry had probably been at the bar the entire time, watching him from afar, perhaps slipping something in his drink. Ian was too weak to fight Terry off and his head hit the top of the doorway as Terry shoved him roughly into the car. As Ian's face hit the sticky vinyl seat, he realized he was going to die that night.

 

Mickey made it back to the south side faster than he ever thought possible. Heading toward the entrance to The Alibi, he saw a limp body out of the corner of his eye. Long and lanky, clad in jeans and sneakers. Even though he couldn't see the top half, he would know that body anywhere. He turned his gaze fully to find his father shoving Ian roughly into the back seat of a truck. 

"Dad, what the fuck are you doing?" Mickey approached quickly and attempted to reach into the truck to pull his barely concious boyfriend out. Terry shoved him away roughly, pushing Mickey onto the ground.

"I'm gonna make things better, son. I'm gonna start by disposing of this piece of trash. You had a lot of promise before he came along and fucked everything up."

Mickey shook his head. "You really think if you get rid of Ian, I won't be gay anymore? Doesn't work that way, Dad." Although even as he said the words, he was aware that, had he not met Ian, he very well may have been closeted the rest of his life.

The two men were staring at each other so intensely that neither noticed Ian moving around inside the truck until he came tumbling out and crawled over to where Mickey remained on the ground. Mickey scanned his boyfriend's body for signs of injury. "You okay?"

Ian nodded. "I think he put something in my drink but yeah. I'm okay."

Ian looked exhausted and dazed and Mickey was about to wrap his arms around him when he saw a flash of metal. He turned to see his father aiming a gun at them. "Get in the truck. Both of you."

 

All three were crowded in the front seat with Mickey in the middle. He had deliberately put himself between the other two even though being so close to his father made his skin crawl. They had driven only a short distance when he looked over at Ian who was looking out the window and struggling to keep his eyes open. Terry had definitely drugged him. Mickey had put an arm around his boyfriend, pulling him closer and inviting Ian to lean his head on Mickey's shoulder. Within seconds, Mickey could feel from Ian's breathing that he was asleep.

 

They drove for hours in silence. Ian, in a deep drug and alcohol induced slumber, barely moved. Terry watched the road, his knuckles white from his grip on the steering wheel. Mickey mostly stared straight ahead, occasionally glancing at Ian, who now had his forehead pressed against the window. Every time they hit a bump, Ian's head would smack against the glass. At some point, Mickey had taken Ian's hand in his own and he found himself squeezing that hand every time he heard the smack of Ian's head against the glass.

Mickey knew Terry was taking them somewhere to kill them. Before forcing them into the truck, he had taken both their phones. Luckily, the older man hadn't thought to check Mickey for weapons and was unaware of the gun hidden in the waistband of his son's pants. That was sloppy of Terry and Mickey realized the old man wasn't doing so great.

The clock on the dash read four am when Mickey spoke for the first time in hours. "You can kill me, Dad, but you should leave Gallagher."

Terry snorted. "Right."

"No, I mean it. He's not your problem. I'm your problem. He's Frank's problem."

"Yeah well, he's made himself my problem."

"He won't matter when I'm dead."

The old man looked at his son. "Fuck off. Don't try to manipulate me."

"You'll be digging your own grave."

"How so?"

"Nobody cares about me. Maybe Mandy and Iggy a little but they're way too scared of you to do anything about it. Gallagher has a lot of people who care about him. If he disappears, his family won't let it go until he's found. They'll definitely go to the police. And they'll know it was you. A lot of people saw you attack me that night at the christening. And I know for a fact that Ian told his brother what happened when you walked in on us fucking last year."

Terry was silent but Mickey could tell he was considering his son's words. Normally, once Terry made a decision, it was almost impossible to change his mind. But the exhaustion was having an impact on him. On Mickey's other side, he could feel Ian start to move, slowly waking up. "If you kill me, Ian won't have any reason to go to the police. Why would he do that and endanger his family if I'm already dead? But if you kill Gallagher, you're gonna get caught."

Terry bit his lip, appearing flustered and agitated. "What am I supposed to do with him? Just leave him on the side of the fucking road?"

Mickey looked out the window. It was pitch black and they were on a dirt road with no sign of civilization. Mickey didn't even know if they were still in Illinois. "Yes."

Ian picked his head up and was rubbing his eyes. "Mick, what's going on?"

Mickey ignored him, staying focused on his father. "He'll have to walk for miles before he even has access to a phone. We'll be long gone by then."

Ian, slowly catching on to what Mickey was saying, sat straight up, squeezing Mickey's hand as he shook his head. "No way. I'm staying with you."

Mickey continued to ignore him, turning so his entire body faced his father. "You always taught me that the best way to avoid getting caught was to keep things simple, only destroy what you need to in order to accomplish your goal. Why complicate things? He's nothing to you if I'm gone."

Ian grabbed Mickey's arm. "Mickey, what the fuck?" But Mickey pushed him away, focusing on his father. He had him, he could feel it. He spoke softly. "Dad. Pull over."

A few seconds passed and Mickey felt like he couldn't breath but then he felt the car slow down and veer to the right. Having realized what was happening, Ian was growing hysterical, grabbing Mickey and shaking him. Screaming at him not to do this. Mickey allowed himself to be shaken, remaining stone faced.

The car stopped and Ian grabbed onto the dash. "I'm not leaving you."

Terry got out of the car and Mickey followed. They walked around to the passenger side and Terry pulled the door open. Ian looked at Mickey pleadingly. "I'm not gonna leave you to die, Mick. We're in this together. Please let me stay with you."

Mickey reached in and wrapped his arms around Ian, pulling him out of the car as Ian screamed and fought him. Ian was bigger than Mickey but Mickey had always been a better fighter and, in Ian's weakened state, Mickey easily overpowered him. Mickey dragged him away from the road and threw him onto the ground. Ian was crying now, begging Mickey not to do this. Ian stood up and made one last lunge toward the older boy and Mickey punched him in the stomach and threw him back down on the ground. Mickey watched as Ian writhed on the ground, holding his stomach, and he knew Ian wouldn't have the strength to go after him again. 

Mickey knelt beside him. Their eyes remained locked on each other as Mickey reached into his pocket and pulled out Ian's pills. He held them in front of Ian's face and then slipped them into the front pocket of Ian's jeans. Then, Mickey reached his hand to Ian's face, gently wiping the tears away with his thumb before sliding his hand down to cup Ian's chin.

"Mick, please."

There was so much that Mickey wanted to say. But the knowledge that this was probably the last time he would ever see the redhead was so devastating that it left him incapable of speech. Instead, he brought Ian's face to his and pressed their lips together in a short and gentle kiss.

After a moment, Mickey felt a boot kick at his foot. "Enough. Let's get moving."

Mickey reluctantly pulled away from Ian. Ian was still begging Mickey to reconsider, sobbing now, and Mickey couldn't look at him. He got into the car and focused on the road ahead. As Terry pulled the car back onto the road, Mickey leaned his head down, hands clamped over his ears to block out the sound of Ian screaming his name.


	12. Goodbye and Hello

Mickey recognized it immediately. The small regional airport in Wisconsin where Terry used to take Mickey and his brothers to dispose of incriminating evidence after a run. 

Terry made a series of turns until they entered what looked to Mickey to be a long-term parking lot. The sun hadn't yet started to come up so it was still dark but, surrounded by a few faint lights, it still seemed bright compared with the utter darkness where they had left Ian.

Terry pushed Mickey out of the car and began walking him forward. Mickey could feel the pain of the gun pressed roughly into his back. Mickey knew exactly what was going to happen. There was a car waiting for them. Terry would shoot Mickey and then leave his body in the trunk and then return to the truck and go back to Chicago. Eventually, someone would retrieve the car containing Mickey's body and dispose of Mickey's remains somewhere hidden where no one would ever stumble upon them. He would just disappear.

As they walked, Mickey allowed himself to think about Ian for the first time since leaving him on the side of the road. This was all set up for him. Somehow by convincing his dad that he was gay with or without Gallagher, Mickey had succeeded in making Ian insignificant. It occurred to Mickey that, had Terry not involved Iggy in his plans, Mickey never would have known to be looking out for Ian and his boyfriend would have merely disappeared one day never to return. Mickey felt strangely content in that moment because some things were worse than death. He had saved Ian, he hoped, and saved himself from unimaginable despair. He only wished he could know for sure that Ian would make it home safely.

Mickey knew they had reached their destination because Terry was suddenly pushing him down into a kneeling position beside what appeared to be a '96 Honda Civic. It was astonishing that Terry still hadn't found the pistol stashed in the waistband of Mickey's jeans. But then his father's gun was pressed against the back of his head and Mickey froze, too terrified to even try to go for the pistol. Through the entire drive, he had been planning for this moment but all he could do in the present was to close his eyes tightly and hope he died instantly.

Several agonizing seconds went by and Mickey, eyes still clamped shut, found himself shouting at his father. "Fucking do it!" 

But Terry didn't fire the gun. Instead, Mickey felt the pressure ease off the back of his head as Terry's arm fell to his side.

Mickey turned, still kneeling, to look at his father. Mickey's face was wet, though he hadn't realized he'd been crying, and his hands shook violently. The old man was looking at Mickey. Exhaustion and confusion were all over the old man's face. And something else . . . anger, he realized. Terry was furious at himself for not being able to go through with it.

"I can't fucking do it." Terry's eyes were burning into Mickey's and all he saw in his father's face was hatred. And Mickey realized that hatred was all his father had ever showed him, whether through words, looks, or with his fists. Terry turned and began walking back to the truck. "Come on, you piece of shit. You coming or not?"

There was a dull thud when the old man hit the ground. Mickey, standing now, put the gun, still hot in his hand, back in his pants. 

Mickey approached the body hesitantly. With a deep breath, he bent down, forced his arms beneath the corpse and lifted. The only adult Mickey had ever carried was Ian and Mickey was shocked by the crushing weight of his father. Ian was tall but skinny. His father was solid. Mickey stumbled under him, falling once, his father's body crumbling on top of him and then Mickey was puking onto the asphalt. When he recovered, Mickey lifted his father again, moaning with the effort and hoisted him into the unlocked trunk. Mickey, crying openly now, gazed at his father's face for the last time. He whispered his goodbye. "Fuck you." And then he slammed the trunk shut.

 

Mickey tried his best to retrace the drive but it was difficult because it had been so dark and Mickey had been so scared. Now the sun was rising and, after a few wrong turns, Mickey was fairly certain that he was on the right road. He had been driving a little over an hour and he had composed himself. He was no longer crying or shaking. And all thoughts of his dad were gone. He only thought of finding Ian.

He had the cell phones and thought briefly of calling 911. He could say he and his boyfriend had had an argument and he impulsively threw him out of the car. But there were too many holes in the story. Where would he say they had been going? And where would he say he had been all that time since leaving Ian by the side of the road? And, if the police reached Ian first, god only knew what Ian might say to them, not yet knowing that Mickey was okay.

Mickey would have to find Ian on his own. Mickey stayed calm by reminding himself that the weather was mild and Ian hadn't even been out there more than a few hours. And Ian was a tough guy. He could take care of himself.

Mickey noticed that the truck was desperately in need of gas. He reached over and opened the glove compartment, hoping to find a map. There was a ton of crap in there and Mickey had his eyes off the road for several seconds before he realized he was swerving heavily to the side of the road. Mickey looked up and saw a sight that was both beautiful and terrifying to him. Beautiful because it was Ian and terrifying because he was about to run him down.

Mickey swerved back into the road, not particularly dangerous since he hadn't seen another car in quite some time. With the engine still running, he jumped out of the truck, stumbling over his own feet. Miraculously, Ian hadn't even noticed the truck that almost mowed him down and continued walking away in the opposite direction of Mickey. He was walking slow and limping slightly as if he was in pain. He was holding his stomach.

Mickey jogged up to him, grabbing his arm, spinning him around. "Ian!" Ian pulled his arm away reflexively as his eyes found Mickey's. The redhead looked worse than Mickey had ever seen him. Mickey reached for him again. "Ian, it's me."

Ian pulled away a second time as he looked at him with disbelief and shook his head slowly. Mickey grabbed the back of Ian's neck and pulled him into his arms. Ian was stiff at first but quickly began to relax, practically collapsing onto Mickey. After a few minutes, he spoke into Mickey's neck. "Fuck."

Mickey sighed into Ian's hair, still holding him tight. "Yeah."

 

They drove for another hour before Mickey pulled into the parking lot of a diner. Ian was at the entrance when he realized that Mickey was sitting on the curb a few feet away. "Mick?"

"Just wanna have a smoke before we go inside."

Ian sat down beside him. Mickey offered him a cigarette but Ian shook his head. "I'm fucking starving. Can't even remember when I last ate."

Mickey nodded. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah. Just hungry. I'll take my medicine with my breakfast."

Mickey watched Ian look away, embarrassed. Talk of his meds or his illness in general always caused him to feel embarrassed. Seeing that vulnerability only caused Mickey to feel more protective of him. "Wish I had some aspirin. My head is fucking killing me."

Ian reached a hand out and began gently massaging the back of his boyfriends neck. "Mick, where's your dad?"

Mickey shook his head. "You don't need to know that shit, man."

Ian nodded. "So you knew he was after me? Why didn't you say anything?"

"I wanted to but I thought it would make shit worse."

"So that's why you were following me around, texting me all the time? Always wanting to know where I was?"

"For the most part. Why didn't you tell me about Brad?"

"Thought it would make shit worse." Ian grinned at Mickey. "I guess we think alike."

"That the only reason?"

"I don't know. Maybe I didn't want to burden you with more of my stupid shit."

Mickey took one last drag of his cigarette before disposing of it. "Maybe I like dealing with your stupid shit."

Mickey looked over at Ian who had a big smile on his face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, man. Maybe I fucking love it."

Ian laughed and it sounded like the old Ian, which made Mickey smile. "I love dealing with your stupid shit too, Mick."

Mickey stood. "Come on, let's go eat." Mickey reached a hand out and Ian took it with his own. Mickey pulled him up to a standing position and made a move to take his hand back but Ian held on. Mickey looked at him in surprise. Ian grinned at him, raising his eyebrows in a challenge. Mickey was frozen a moment and considered pulling away. "Fuck it." He finally said as he pulled Ian closer, resting an arm over his shoulder as they entered the diner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thanks for all the comments and kudos - they made me so happy!


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